#which at this point has been a topic discussed so many times

[hunkydorkling]

After much thought, I think I'm gonna continue The Long Way Home. I was jailed by my insecurity over writing longfic for lawrusso that it just feels like a waste to not update a fic I genuinely loved the premise of, knowing that it was pretty much all I ever fantasized day in and out in 2021.

[shotoh]

all mine

SYNOPSIS: Bakugou decides to put his delusional secretary in their place.

pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

word count: 9.6k+

genre: fluff, SMUT, maybe a smidgen of angst

tags/warnings: 18+! minors dni! reader is not the secretary, basically this other lady is trying to seduce your man but katsuki isn’t falling for it! marking, exhibitionism, oral (f!receiving), riding, soft!bakugou but also mean!bakugou, humiliation (not really at reader), a couple spanks, office sex, praise, degradation, pet names (baby, princess, angel), crude language

author’s notes: this is very overdue, like incredibly overdue LOL i started this wip last year but could only continue writing during random bouts of inspiration. so i apologize if the smut is a little half-assed and if the characterization is questionable. but enjoy my late kinktober 2022 present to y’all 

The sound of Dynamight’s heavy boots hitting the floor resonate throughout the wide hallways of his agency, drowning out the heels clicking behind him. A woman quickens her pace in an attempt to catch up to the impatient blond hero, rushing into his peripheral vision.

“Sir? Oh Bakugou sir~” The dulcet chime calling him is sickly sweet, enough to make him grimace. “I need you to look over these reports before I file them away.” She whips out one of the thick packets of papers clutch to her chest, bringing his steps to a halt which makes the hero point a glare at her.

“How many times do I have to fucking tell you that you’re suppose to call me by my hero name.” Malice coats his words, dripping off his tongue as he swipes the reports from her fingers. The woman, to the hero’s annoyance, indulges in his feisty attitude.

“Aw, but ‘Bakugou’ is more fitting given how closely we work together!” She waves off his displeasure, hoping her excessively cheerful personality can tone him down. “I am your secretary, after all.” She leans into his space, too damn close for his liking by how he could get a whiff of her pungent perfume. The overbearing scent has him side-stepping to create more distance between them.

The blond rolls his eyes before giving the papers in his hand a once-over, not even granting her the satisfaction of eye contact. “You work at a Pro-Hero agency, not some ordinary office job.”

Normally, he isn’t one to admonish any of his employees unless they’re his sidekicks. He’s always out and about on missions, never dawdling around the office long enough to find anything to scold them about. So long as they were competent at their job, he never had to give them any earfuls. But this woman here has been testing that resolve.

A month into her new position, his secretary has been greeting him every morning with far more energy than should be considered possible at such an hour. Her regular tasks shouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary. She was mostly tasked with filing villain reports and contacting other Pro-Hero agencies, but her enthusiasm warrants him to think otherwise.

She deliberately shares elevator rides with him, droning on and on about god knows what before getting off at her floor, ending their dull conversations with winks and wide-eyed smiles that make him want to gag. It’s one thing to be genuinely excited about your job, but it’s another thing to be attached to your boss at the hip. She’s at his beck and call when he doesn’t even ask for her.

One can chalk this up to her simply gunning for a promotion, buttering up her boss to garner his favor. However, Bakugou isn’t an idiot. He can read the air, deciphering the meaning behind her words and advances. Her deceptive guise of a hardworking secretary beneath those batting eyelashes is easily uncovered by him.

If she was really trying so hard for a promotion she’d approach him with more important topics in mind. Statistics, analysis, updates on villain activity and hero work. Y’know, discussions that would actually benefit his agency rather than waste his time.

Instead, Bakugou stands there listening to… this.

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” her voice drifts off as she taps a finger against her bottom lip pensively, “we should consider holding a party to get to know all our co-workers better!” she proposes. The blond narrows his brows incredulously at her suggestion.

Oblivious to his lack of interest, she moves closer to him, caressing a hand along his hard bicep. She tip-toes her fingers up his arm before flattening her digits next to his ear to whisper, “Company members only, of course. But I’m sure we’d still have a fun time even if it was just the two of us, right?”

Recognizing the suggestive lilt in her tone, he shoves her off of him without even touching her, abruptly tossing his shoulder back. The secretary freezes and comes across the peeved expression on the explosion hero’s rough features.

“We’re here to beat villains and protect civilians, not throw dumb parties.”

“But–”

“Shut it,” he retorts harshly, not letting the bewildered look on the secretary’s face demur him. He shoves the reports back in her arms. “Just do your damn job.” With his brows taut behind his mask, the blond glares hard at her, watching her fumble with the papers before he resumes the rhythm of his combat boots stepping down the hallway. The hero gives her one last glance over his shoulder.

“And remember, it’s Dynamight to you.”

.

.

Man, what an annoying woman.

Is the thought that plagues Bakugou’s mind as he stands beneath the running water in his shower, washing away the sweat and grime accumulated from another busy day of heroics. Yet he still can’t get the irritating thoughts in his head to do the same.

His fingers weave the shampoo through his spikey locks, the pads of his digits massaging his scalp. Glancing at his reflection in the foggy, glass screen door, he meets his scowling mug.

“Tryna get in my pants and shit… Worry about keeping your damn job,” he grumbles to himself exasperatedly. What he finds especially annoying is knowing his secretary will start the day again tomorrow as if nothing happened. Even with Bakugou’s firm stance at wanting to keep things strictly professional, she’s going to continue getting up in his space, trying to caress her nails up his arm, and stink up the place with what he swore was five different kinds of perfume sprayed on her clothes.

But Bakugou’s not some oblivious fool. He can recognize from a mile away what her goal is and he absolutely wants no part in it.

Besides...

“Katsuki! Dinner will be ready when you’re done showering!”

His head swivels toward the door of the bathroom. “Yeah I heard ya!”

He’s already got someone deserving of his time and affection.

You.

“’Kay!” you reply, voice gradually growing louder. Bakugou hears your feet plodding toward the bathroom door just as the door creaks open slightly. “I’ll leave you a new towel to use after you’re done showering, too.” Even through the steam, he can recognize your silhouette peeking inside to drop the towel off. Unbeknownst to you, behind the cloudy glass door of the shower there’s a smile that finds his lips.

After washing the lather off his hair and body, he shuts the water. The last streams falling from the showerhead glide down his skin, joining the suds on the floor before they all disappear down the drain. As the thick steam surrounding him dissipates, he covers his toned body in the towel you left for him.

While patting down the excess droplets cascading his blond locks, Bakugou puts on some sweatpants, but forgoes his t-shirt for now, leaving it hanging over his shoulder. He continues rubbing the towel around his torso as he exits the bathroom.

The savory aroma of thick cheeses and tomato sauces hits Bakugou’s nose the moment he enters the kitchen. He stops in his tracks to take in the pleasant smells, along with the sight in front of his eyes that effortlessly forms a grin on his face.

Your soft hums accompany the harmonious atmosphere of the kitchen. Bakugou’s ruby eyes rove over you shimmying your way around an array of pans and plates like you own the place (which you essentially do), watching you finish piecing your dinner together with a generous sprinkle of garnish and spices.

Eyes never leaving you, an expression of admiration and fondness paints his usually hardened face. With arms crossed over his chest, he could just stand there, admire you, and be more than wholly content. You could do the most mundane things and still have him wrapped around your finger—not that he’d ever mention that to you out loud of course. Occasionally, Bakugou wonders how he ever got so lucky with you in the first place.

You’re so blissfully unaware of your hotheaded boyfriend lurking nearby. It’s all the more apparent by how you abruptly pause as soon as you discover him idling in the kitchen doorway in all of his half-naked glory.

The blond doesn’t let the fact that you’re practically ogling his hard muscle slip past him, and definitely doesn’t miss your moment of hesitation before you avert your gaze, your cheeks growing hot. It brings a smirk to his face and his ego through the roof.

Bakugou tosses his towel and t-shirt somewhere off the side before coming to you. “What? Getting flustered or something, babe?” he taunts. His deep tone hovers next to your ear as his chest touches your back. His hands are on either side of you, trapping you against the counter.

“That fuckin’ hot that I got you this speechless?” His breath is so close to you, he just knows you have goosebumps trailing down your spine. He can tell by the heat swirling in your cheeks just how much he has an effect on you and he absolutely loves how easily he can get you flustered.

Though he can’t say he’s all but immune to your charms, either. He trails a calloused hand up your bare thigh and hips, giving your ass a firm squeeze through your booty shorts which causes a yelp to flee your lips.

Fuckin’ hell.

The way you were dancing around in these things, tip-toeing to reach high cabinets that caused the shorts to ride up slightly and give him a glimpse of the plushness peeking past the fabric already had Bakugou half-hard simply standing behind you. But being able to touch what was essentially his started to make the material of his sweatpants absolutely suffocating.

In a single motion, he spins you around. Your back is pinned against the counter as you’re forced to face him. The cocky grin plastered on his lips greets you.

Finally grasping your composure, you raise an eyebrow at him. “For someone who wanted to take a shower as soon as their stinky-self got home, you sure are eager to get dirty again,” you retort, tracing your hands up his arms to place them on his broad shoulders. “Work didn’t get you sweaty enough?”

The blond chuckles lowly at your cheekiness. His face inches closer, mere centimeters away from your lips. “I could go for an extra workout,” he says huskily, voice dissipating with the shortening distance between you.

His eyes are lidded as he targets your lips, hands leaving the edge of the counter in favor of wrapping his arms around your waist. To his surprise, when he darts forward he meets nothing but air.

Hearing your giggles beside him breaks the tension between you. He opens his eyes and discovers that you’ve tilted your head out of the way. Before he can open his mouth to spit a retort, you rest your head against his shoulder, arms winding at his neck.

“Food’s gonna get cold, big boy,” you hum.

The noise that leaves his gritted teeth is practically a growl. “Dun care about the food–” His hands at your sides play with the waistband of your shorts. “Would rather eat you out on this counter.”

He watches you gulp down the lump in your throat, finding the idea tempting as a dull throb aches between your legs. But to his dismay, you don’t want to let him indulge in you just yet.

You lean forward to kiss his cheek to prepare him for your next words, “First and foremost, dinner. And then I'll let you do whatever you want with me. How’s that?” You tiptoe to peck his nose one more time for good measure before wriggling free from his clutches. You shuffle away to the steaming hot food you left on the other end of the counter.

Pink swathes his cheeks as Bakugou stands there dumbfounded. He rubs the back of his head, his brows furrowing in frustration.

“You’re killing me here, dammit.”

You let out another dulcet giggle. The urge to sneak up on you again to try to get you all hot and bothered lingers until it’s interrupted by a piece of fabric thrown in his face. “Also, shirt on we please.” You turn back at him with two plates of stuffed ravioli perched on each hand. “No shirt, no service.”

He yanks the white t-shirt off his face, grimacing as he begrudgingly pulls it over his head. “Yeah, yeah. You love it though.” Nonetheless, he follows behind you while the savory aroma of your food creates a path toward the dining table. The scent alone makes his stomach growl, the effects of a long day at work making themselves apparent.

Despite the antics he has to put up with, he can’t help but soften around you. It’s as if you possess an innate ability to effortlessly get him to shed his notoriously rough exterior.

He takes a seat on his side of the table, his stomach now growling loud enough for you to hear. You tease a wry grin before placing the ravioli dishes on the table, letting the delicious aromas waft around him, his mouth watering.

“I know it’s been a long day for you so you better eat up, hero.”

The blond’s eyes flicker for a second, chest enveloped with pride as he meets the look on your face that awaits for him in anticipation to dig in. “Yeah… Thanks for the meal,” he murmurs, mild gratitude woven in his words as he picks up the fork and finally chows down.

Again, what did he ever do to deserve you? He knows how hard you work each and every day. The fact that you’re still willing to love and take care of him is enough for him to want to cherish you for an eternity. Coming home to the person he loves and sharing meals with them is a blessing to him as it is and he absolutely wouldn’t trade this for anything else.

Which just makes the matter of his secretary all the more annoying to him.

The damn woman has walked in his office plenty of times to see the framed picture of you two on his desk, even occasionally interrupting his phone calls with you that would end with him mouthing low “love yous” before he’d have to turn around to acknowledge the petty expression resting on her face. He’d watch as her demeanor quickly shifted into a full 180—from a bitter frown to a forced grin to keep up her facade. She definitely knows he’s in a happy, committed relationship. The real question is whether or not she cares enough to acknowledge the fact.

He could just fire her for unprofessionalism. That seems like an obvious solution, but knowing her, she’d probably feed the media some false rumors about alleged abuse towards his employees. Of course, that wouldn’t at all be true. Far from it, but the news loved to twist the truth so long as it got them clicks. Given Bakugou’s naturally rugged demeanor, it wouldn’t be hard for the public to buy their shit and for his ranking on the hero chart to plummet. Which Bakugou could not afford right now considering how close he was to the top.

“’Tsuki, stop playing with your food.” He hears you chide, tugging him from his contemplation.

Bakugou huffs, jamming his fork onto the plate. “I’m not a damn kid.”

“Right, tell that to the ravioli you’re mangling with your fork.” You raise your brow and point at his stabbed and defeated pasta, the filling oozing out from the punctured holes. He keeps his gaze suspiciously fixed on the ravioli.

Does it taste bad? You wonder warily. “If you don’t like it then you don’t have to eat it, y’know.”

“What? No– The food’s fine.” He stuffs three pastas in his mouth one after the other. “Fucking delicious,” he mutters through ungracious chewing, cheeks puffed profusely, bringing a grin to your face.

“What’s wrong then? Bad day at work?”

He swallows his food. “Could say that,” he answers, resting his head against his propped arm. “Just some employee causing trouble.”

“Hopefully it’s not one of your sidekicks,” you pick at the raviolis while stuck in your musing, “I remember your first batch of recruits when you just started your own agency. You nearly scared half of them away by the end of the week.”

“How else was I supposed to whip those newbies into shape?” He lounges in his seat. “If they can’t take some yelling from a Pro, then they’re definitely not ready for the real hero world. Besides, they were the ones that came to my agency knowing that I’m the best,” he boasts with confidence, shoving more pasta in his mouth, and munching at his leisure.

“Also, it’s not a sidekick. Just some lady who can’t do her fuckin’ job.”

“Aw, cut her some slack, I’m sure she’s trying her best.”

Bakugou almost scoffs. If you knew the real reason for her lack of work ethic, you’d be on the same page as him.

Either way, he really needs to get this secretary off his back before shit blows out of proportion. If pictures, phone calls—hell—even lunch dates can’t get her to wake up, then what?

To his surprise, the idea actually comes to him quicker than he anticipated, red eyes perking up at a scheme forming in his head.

Of course. Heh, why didn’t I think of that sooner?

This is how he’s going to do it, he thinks. His lips barely resist the urge to quiver into a smirk that will no doubt have you questioning whatever was riling him up. Swallowing his final piece of pasta, Bakugou pushes his plate away but aims his fork in your direction.

“You free tomorrow?”

“I just have to drop off some papers at work in the morning. Why?”

“Good. Come by the agency for lunch.”

Your brows furrow at how sudden the request is, however, you go along with it. “Okay, should I make lunch for us?”

“Nah, don’t. I’ll order something,” he assures, but in his head he’s sure lunch would be the last thing on your mind tomorrow afternoon with what he has planned for you, him, and his secretary.

Bakugou scoots his seat back, leaning over on your side of the table. “Now, I remember a certain brat made a promise to me after dinner was done.”

“Hold it, I still have a piece–”

“Nuh-uh, c’mere–” He lightly pushes your hand away, and with effortless strength, pulls you out of your chair and over his shoulder. “Already waited too damn long.”

“Whoa..!” Your last piece of pasta falls back on the plate, forgotten. You watch as the distance between you and the dining table diminishes, the impatient blond leading you two into the hallway. At your fidgeting, he swats your thigh, warning you to stay fucking still unless you want to accidentally fall on your face.

With a squeal escaping your lips, you comply. As a reward, he presses his lips against the side of your ass as you’re still hanging over him, nipping at your curves. Your yelps are replaced by laughter. The ticklish sensation nearly makes you squirm again if not for Bakugou dropping you unceremoniously onto your bed.

“You better make it up to me for having to make me wait, Princess.” His emphasis on what is supposed to be your endearing little pet name comes out as a snarl as you’re cornered against the sheets. Expecting this kind of intense reaction from him after your meal, you grin slyly.

“I mean the ravioli was good, wasn’t it?”

Well that he can’t deny. Still, the blond smirks, showing his pearly canines. “Yeah, but,” he moves away from you, kneeling while grabbing at the hem of his shirt to pull it off,

“I’m still fuckin’ hungry.”

.

.

There is no doubt that the next day, you woke up incredibly sore. Sore yet also just as happy.

The tension in your muscles had dissipated as a result of being repeatedly fucked into your own mattress last night, allowing you to sleep soundly. So soundly that you don’t even notice your boyfriend leaving for work that morning. But it can’t be helped given how ungodly early his hero work starts every day.

Some hours after Bakugou has already left, your alarm goes off to remind you that it’s about time to begin your day. Even after a spent night, you can’t bear the thought of lying in bed anymore, especially with how cold the sheets had become, devoid of the blond’s natural warmth. Plus you had something to look forward to this afternoon—your lunch date.

Once you get washed and dressed, you grab your business files from your desk and dash out the door to drop off your papers at work.

Before you know it, it’s noon and you’re standing in front of the receptionist’s desk at Dynamight’s agency.

While you wait for the receptionist to finish their business call, you think back on the employee Bakugou mentioned yesterday. You note in the foreground how busy the entire place looks, which doesn't surprise you. The agency runs like a well-oiled machine. With all the hustle and bustle going on, it seems like everyone is doing their job with peak efficiency. Honestly, you can’t imagine anyone wanting to test the wrath of the explosive Number Two Hero, but you assume such people existed.

“Thank you for waiting! Here to see Mister Dynamight?” The receptionist greets you after hanging up their call, immediately recognizing you from your prior visits.

“Yeah, just coming by for lunch.”

“He’s in his office right now so I’ll let him know you’re here then.”

You mouth a thank you, followed by a farewell wave as you make your way to the elevator.

“’Suki’s office should be on… this floor…” you murmur, pressing the corresponding button on the panel. While you wait for the doors to close, you spot a figure approaching from a distance. You can see the person’s wrinkled professional attire, disheveled hair, and slightly smeared makeup as she approaches the elevator clumsily.

“H… Hold the door!” she pants.

Hearing her frantic request, your mind catches up with you. You jam your index finger on another button on the panel, keeping the doors open just long enough for the woman to slip inside and catch her breath.

You watch her ungraciously drop to the floor, lungs gasping for air. “That was a close one.” You bend down to extend a helping hand.

She sputters as she reaches out to you, “Yeah, thanks, I– Wait, you’re...” When she looks up, her eyes squint to get a better look at your face, brows knitting together as she recognizes your features. Dismissing your help, she abruptly retracts her hand before getting up on her own. You cock your head suspiciously when you notice her change in demeanor.

“Oh, I’m just stopping by to have lunch with my boyfriend. He’s your, uh,” you piece your words as eloquently as you can, “boss.”

It’s always difficult for you to tell any of Bakugou’s staff that you’re his girlfriend. You’d done it before in front of his group of sidekicks while waiting outside his office and as a result they all flipped, bombarding you with questions about your relationship before falling dead silent when his door suddenly swung open.

You’re expecting the same, if not, a similar reaction here, but you’re surprised to see a deadpan look in the woman’s eyes. She averts her gaze. You glance over at her, taking note of her fists shaking at her sides and how she bites the inside of her cheek which forms a pout on her lips.

You’re beginning to wonder if you shouldn’t have disclosed that information. “Are you okay?” you inquire, your voice filled with genuine concern. She eventually turns to look at you straight on, her expression teetering between a smile and a scowl. In any case, she tries to steer you away from the elephant in the room.

“Yep! Just peachy!” she assures through a strained grin that makes you all the more suspicious of her. Even if you want to question it, she has no intention of continuing the conversation. Her lips press together in an effort to maintain her smile, or else risk blurting something that should’ve stayed in her mouth. You keep to yourself in the elevator so as not to bother her, but the prolonged silence, combined with the elevator’s incessant dinging throughout each ascending floor, creates a suffocating atmosphere.

With every floor you pass you soon realize that despite keeping your distance, she’s still looking in your general direction. You notice her sneaking glances at you and your neck grows hot as you follow where her eyes wander. You press your palm against your jugular, the spot you recall Bakugou laying his teeth on last night.

I thought I covered that…

You want to chastise yourself for not spending enough time this  morning to conceal the blemishes on your neck. Your coworker had even commented on them before you left for Dynamight’s agency, to your embarrassment.

You settle for letting out an uneasy chuckle while adjusting the collar of your shirt. Though the majority of Bakugou’s staff are already aware of your relationship, you’d rather hide any detail of your sex life if possible. You’d prefer not being the hot talk amongst the whole faculty.

You expect to be the brunt of the woman’s teasing next, anticipating her wiggling her brows or whistling, but she keeps her mouth shut and her expression even appears offended.

Fortunately, the elevator saves both of you from any more uncomfortable silences. Right on cue, the doors slide open for the woman to exit on her floor. She doesn’t spare you a glance on her way out, but you overhear her mutter under her breath, “Enjoy your lunch or whatever.”

She stomps in the opposite direction until her figure disappears behind closing doors. Your face scrunches. “What’s her deal?”

You’ve gotten used to the bitter reactions some people would give over the fact you and Bakugou are in a relationship. You kind of have to, considering who Bakugou is and the hoards of fans he’s accumulated over the years as a Pro-Hero. But any of the backlash you receive is mostly posted online by petty netizens. No one has the guts to confront you in person. Mostly because if they do, Bakugou has no qualms about retaliating with equal venom and more. This lady, on the other hand, works for Bakugou. When it comes to greeting her boss’s girlfriend, she should be professional, right?

You brush those thoughts away, recalling that no one should ever have to suck up to you simply because you're a Pro’s significant other. “She’s probably on the PR team.” You laugh off, remembering how much trouble it is to manage Bakugou’s public image and how she must be tired from working overtime.

The elevator dings one last time to indicate that you’ve arrived at your destination. When the doors part, the entrance to Dynamight’s office is directly across from you, passing a short corridor. Normally, sidekicks and employees had to press the button on the side of the door, or page him ahead of time before entering. However, you have the luxury of just swinging those doors open whenever you like.

“Heya, Katsu–”

“For the last fuckin’ time, there’s no way I’m going on that mission as his fucking standby.” The voice booming at the other end of the room behind a wide, wooden desk drowns out your voice. “Tell Grand that if he can’t find another B-rate hero agency like his to do his damn dirty work, then he can just fuck himself,” he spits into the receiver. He slams the phone down and hangs up the call without a second thought.

You announce your presence once more with a low whistle. Another one for the PR team. “Vulgar as usual,” you joke.

He sighs loudly, “The only way to get the message across their thick skulls is to beat it into their heads at this point,” he says, leaning against the large glass windows behind him. “That Shindou needs to get off my back. I thought I told everyone I wasn’t taking anymore calls from that asswipe.”

“I’m sure Grand will finally get the idea after he receives your message from his manager.” Slipping in next to him, you wrap your arms around his neck. Your fingers delicately crawl up to his chin, tilting his head to face your smile. Bakugou reciprocates the gesture, his gloved hands gripping your waist and pulling you in as your lips briefly meet. When you part, you rest your forehead against his.

“How was patrol this morning, hero?” you whisper, playing with the tufts of hair above his neck.

“Same old shit,” he tells you quietly as you hum at his response, an amused grin tugging at the seam of your lips. Just as you’re about to separate, his hold at your sides tightens, locking your body against his.

“Bet you missed me, didn’t you, princess?” He leans in to nibble your jawline, causing laughter to tumble from your lips. “Bed got cold without me?”

Your answer is interrupted by a hand brushing up against the waistband of your pants, ruffling your tucked-in blouse. The man growls in the crook of your neck. “Didn’t have my cock to keep you nice and warm?”

Your nose scrunches at his unfiltered tongue. “Katsuki, I came here for lunch, remember?” You push at his chest, attempting to get him off you, but his teeth lock onto your clavicle.

“Food’s on the way,” he assures. Fingers play with the loops of your pants, dragging your shirt out slowly. “Might as well kill time–” His lips suddenly collide with yours, stealing your breath and drowning out any protests. He scuffs his teeth against your bottom lip, looking for a way in. You whimper in response at his persistence, stumbling backwards against the edge of his desk as he finally pries through your lips.

After an intense moment of kissing, his attention shifts to your jugular, nipping at the tender skin again. Every time his canines make contact with the broken skin, you wince. “Still got my marks all over ya,” he boasts, but the more skin he tries to unveil, the more he has to pull at your shirt’s collar which quickly annoys him. “Though I don’t understand what the hell you’re covering them up for.”

“D-Don’t want people to see…” you fumble with your excuses yet tilt your head to grant him better access. He scoffs at how your actions betray your words.

“Why does it matter when I want them to see? Let those fuckers look and know we’re together.” He licks one of the patches of broken skin. His harsh words make you shiver in his hold, but beneath his rough exterior, you sense a tender possessiveness in the amount of attention he pays to your body.

Your fingers brush through his hair, gently pulling him off of you so you can look him in the eyes, “You’re so damn insufferable, you know that?”

“Heh, you like it though,” Bakugou counters. You click your tongue, feigning ignorance. With his hand wrapped at the nape of your neck, he thumbs at your blemishes. His ruby eyes take their time to admire every inch of his claim on you. “You were clenching whenever I marked you. Screaming nice and loud too.”

“I bet the neighbors hate us now…” You sigh quietly.

“Took them that long?” He grins, almost proud of being a menace to those extras next door despite being a heroic figure. “Besides, not my fault you let me do whatever I wanted to you.” You pout, but accept it’s a fact you very well can’t deny.

As his deft hands unfasten each button of your blouse, he switches your positions. He yanks your shirt, dragging the fabric down your shoulders to reveal your skin and the bra hugging your chest. Licking his lips, he removes his thick gloves before hoisting you up to sit on the desk with him, making you straddle his thighs. Another pause of appreciation for the blossoms adorning your chest makes him blurt out, “Maybe I should let you mark me up just as much.”

You look at him precariously. He doesn’t take back the grin on his face. Seeing your wide-eyed expression, he cups your jaw, pulling you toward him. “What’s the look for? I know you’ve thought about it, princess.” Bakugou reads you like a book. He revels in your flustered face, telling him how right he is.

The image of his scarred, toned skin covered in hickeys has crossed your mind more times than you can count, but you’ve always been too engrossed in the intoxicating sensation of his teeth grazing every stretch of your skin to ever have an opportunity to bring the thought to light. Bakugou never gives you an inch when it comes to taking the reins in the bedroom. But now he’s practically granting you the opportunity on a silver platter.

You point a dubious look at him. “Are you serious, or did you bump your head somewhere earlier on patrol?” Anticipating your skeptical response, a chuckle rumbles low in his throat. He scoots back to remove his tank top, letting your hands lay over his chiseled physique. Your fingers immediately trace the scars and cuts lining his muscles, each one standing as a testament to every one of his battles. The idea of your own marks joining his adonis of a canvas has your eyes fluttering.

“’s no joke, babe,” he clarifies, a wicked grin plastered on his face. He then remembers why he made this whole arrangement in the first place. “Aren’t you tired of those fuckin’ extras always ogling me—looking at me up and down like they even have a damn chance to touch all of this?” He grabs your wrist and guides your hands above his chest, your fingertips brushing his collarbones.

You bite your lower lip. “Well…”

Hearing your voice linger, he snarls, “Are you seriously hesitating?”

It’s not like you hadn’t ever clenched your fists in front of the TV whenever your boyfriend was being interviewed by some mischievous news reporter or journalist. They never make it subtle when casting one too many glances at the Pro’s sweaty, skintight attire, staring into his red eyes for so long that they started looking dumb. Though as much as dark green jealousy occasionally takes root in your subconsciousness, you never act on your displeasure.

In the back of your mind, you always saw it as a sign of clinginess. But Bakugou sees it differently. To him, he’d want nothing more than his girl staking their claim on him. For you to get needy, jealous, possessive. Let the entire world know that you both belong to each other and no one else.

You fix your gaze at his cynical expression that eggs you on. Before you know it, you lunge forward. Your mouth latches onto his neck, arms curling around his shoulders. Bakugou draws you skin-to-skin, his low chuckle reverberating in the depths of his chest.

“Ooh, that’s it,” he encourages, rubbing your back. His other hand palms your ass, rocking you both back and forth, grinding his bulge against the crotch of your jeans. Your teeth cling to him, sinking into his skin. Your lips vibrate against his collarbones while you whimper at the delicious friction on your clit.

“Harder. I wanna see nice ol’ purple marks here,” he orders, relentlessly rolling his hips. You want to slap him on the wrist, your concentration waning as heat quickly pools in your abdomen. As if the grinding isn’t enough, Bakugou effortlessly undos the button of your jeans. He pulls down the zipper before reaching inside and touching you through your underwear.

“Fuck, already this wet from a little grinding? Nasty girl,” he hisses, running his index and middle finger across the ruined crotch of your panties. “Or maybe marking me is getting you all riled up?”

“Shut up–” you mutter half-heartedly. With a pop, your lips leave him. You lean back to evaluate your work. They’re not as noticeable as the marks Bakugou usually gives you, but they’re visible, and they’re purple as requested.

A small trail of violet hickeys adorns the crook of the blond’s neck and collarbones. Your finger traces the path, eyes capturing the sheen of your saliva over the marks. His skin gleams in the sunlight streaming in through the windows.

Reaching inside the pocket of his baggy pants, Bakugou pulls out his phone to turn on the front-facing camera. He gets a clear view of your work on the screen, and his smirk appears on the display. “My girl did that, huh?” He cranes his neck to examine the blemishes from different angles. Soon after, you hear his camera’s shutter release, capturing the image and adding it to his gallery. He should really consider making an album out of these.

Tossing his phone to the side, those piercing red eyes return to you, and your assertiveness fades. He grabs your wrists and leans in to kiss your temple.

“You did well, princess.”

His hushed voice makes your cunt clench and your ears warm. “I'll be sure to show these off later,” he promises, his tone dripping with smugness.

God, you realize how little his hero costume does to hide any of those hickeys. Given that he has to go on patrol again soon, you can expect his neck to be a hot topic in the media. Regardless, you can’t deny the satisfaction that wells up in your chest at the thought.

Katsuki was right. You really are possessive over him. And of course, it goes both ways.

While you’re distracted by your epiphany, he uses this opportunity to unhook your bra, happily discarding the garment. You exhale as he roughly cups the underside of your breast. His breath tickles your perky nipple, strong arm hooking you into him.

The pattern of his breaths are erratic, excitement coursing through his veins. His carmine eyes are lidded as he flattens a tongue against the hardened nub. As Bakugou fully wraps his lips around the stiffening bud, sucking and biting to his heart’s content, mewls part your mouth.

“Your tits still taste fucking amazing,” he mutters, mouth caught between sucking and spewing obscenities. “These tits gonna give me some milk too, princess?”

“Don’t push your luck, mister,” you quip before biting your bottom lip. You concentrate on moving your hips back and forth against his thigh, trying to find the right angle that provides you with the delicious jolt of pleasure you craved between your thighs. With a smack, his lips leave your nipple.

“Guess I didn’t give you enough attention down here since you keep rutting against me like a needy slut.” He swats your ass before gripping the plushness harshly. The mild sting has your pussy clenching. “My baby doesn’t feel satisfied unless she’s getting stretched open by my cock, huh?”

Just a little bit of dirty talk from him is enough to make you whimper pathetically, “Please, ‘suki…”

“Please, what? Gotta tell me more than that, princess.” He tugs the waistband of your pants, teasing you. Never breaking eye contact, Bakugou’s hand sneaks under the edge of his desk. “Use your words, I want to know what I’m doing to you. Don’t skimp on the details.”

A light click goes off, but if you hear it you don’t make it apparent, too focused on the hot blond in front of you that was making your head spin.

“Fuck… ‘Suki, I feel so hot… Need you right now…” You grab his hand showing him your ruined panties by letting the pads of his fingers trail your wet pussy. “See? Look what you did, I’m soaked.”

Bakugou mutters curses under his breath, applying more pressure to your panties to thoroughly inspect the slick saturating the fabric. He couldn’t have asked for a better reaction, finding your pleading to be incredibly sinful and all-too-tempting. He considers it a waste that he isn’t recording anything. Well, maybe it isn’t an entire waste.

“Damn, how are you this messy? This pussy’s fucking sobbing for me.” You nod, sloppily gyrating on top of his hand. For once, Bakugou is considerate to your needs and slides your panties to the side to slip his digits across your bare folds. You both moan in unison, you at the extra relief and him at the slippery honey dripping down his knuckles.

In his eyes he was being generous, granting you his thick fingers prodding your silky walls rather than reduce you to pitifully grinding against him. But, being greedy, you thought he wasn’t being generous enough.

Bakugou’s fingers leave your cunt to sample you, wet digits laying flat on his tongue. “Fuck, I need to lick you clean right now.”

“N-No, ‘suki, jus’ want your cock in me already,” you whine with a pout. However, Bakugou is insistent on stealing more than just a little taste from your sweet cunt.

“Not gonna even let me indulge a little? Must have spoiled you with too much dick last night.” He scoffs, but doesn’t move to discard his uniform to free his hard cock. Instead, he motions you to step down and stand in front of him while he remains perched atop his desk.

He eyes you up and down. “What are you waiting for, princess? I want it all off already.”

Your fingers start moving toward your disheveled blouse. As fabrics pile the floor, you catch the blond licking his lips, lewdly eyeing your panties that slip down your legs to reveal your juices coating your inner thighs.

“Turn around and kneel on top of my chair.”

At his blunt tone, you obey. Dynamight’s luxurious office chair cushions your knees as you carefully lift your body onto it.

“Bend over.”

Without question, you use the arms of the chair as leverage to safely lean forward, spreading your pussy in front of him. As half of your face presses into the cushion of the head rest, you steal a glimpse of his reaction from your peripheral vision.

With a guttural hiss between his teeth, he gets off the desk, pulling the chair closer for an even better look at your glistening center. He palms your ass, rolling the globes in his hands before spreading them, exposing your slick folds.

“You seriously trying to deny me this angel cunt?” His words are emphasized with a quick smack before his tongue dives between your folds. You whine at the contact, his lips fluttering around your clit as it works its way up your slobbering hole.

Knees shaking, you subconsciously muffle your sounds as you press your face into the headrest of the office chair. Not satisfied with your muted cries, Bakugou reaches one hand toward your head. He cups your jaw, turning you more to the side so you aren’t hiding in the cushion. When his tongue swivels around your sensitive bud, your moans resonate across his office with euphoria.

“‘suki! I’m gonna–!”

“Gonna cum? Do it then you slut.”

At your warning, he works his mouth vigorously against your pussy, even adding two fingers into your walls. Your toes curl behind you as your grip on the arms of the chair tighten.

“Fuck, you’re dripping all over my damn office chair.”

Maybe you would’ve issued a half-hearted apology, if not for his tongue and its unrelenting intensity across your sensitive bundle of nerves. You only offer a string of moans that Bakugou happily accepts, smiling into your pussy as he feels you tense up against him.

“Ka..tsuki!!” You practically scream, electricity coursing through your skin as your orgasm shakes your entire body.

“That’s it, princess. Want your taste all over my tongue… So fucking good,” he drones against your folds, not letting a drop go to waste as you slowly come down from your post-orgasmic bliss.

“Ah! ‘Suki, I’m already too sensitive…” You gasp, still feeling him drunkenly licking up and down your slit despite you just coming. Reaching behind you, you weave your fingers through his ash blond hair, nudging at his scalp to try to push him away, but Bakugou’s strength clearly outweighs yours. He grips your wrist, lifting his face off your sloppy pussy of his own volition.

“That sensitive just from my tongue? Oh, sweetheart, I plan on ruining you in my office chair alone.” Keeping his word, he replaces your pliant body with his own, planting himself right on the cushioned seat with his legs spread thoughtlessly. He dashes for the hem of his pants, unfastening the zipper, and pulling down enough articles of clothing for his cock to spring out, stiff and glistening with his arousal.

Lust blown eyes admire the thickness of Bakugou’s shaft, rightdown to the veins on the ridges of his cock. A smirk and chuckle follow in the wake of your heady gawking, swearing that you look like you were about to pounce and give him the best head of his life. Sadly, as he glances at the digital clock perched behind you, he realizes there’s no time.

“Sorry, babe, food’s gonna be here any minute and I need you on my cock right fucking now.” He rolls the office chair closer to get a firm grasp of your hips, motioning you on top of him with rousing urgency. Thighs on either side of his own, you reach over your body to level his cock over your dripping folds.

The blond’s lips curl into a sneer beneath you, hands fondling your breast and ass—the latter spreading your cheek to help you accommodate his size. “Besides, this what you wanted, right? To be–” As you begin sinking down his length, your mouth opens in a soundless mewl. “–split open on me, even after I fucked you into the mattress last night?”

Your teeth tug at your bottom lip while you do your best to bottom out. Katsuki isn’t amused by your muted reaction, pinching your nipple as punishment and spurring his desired noises from you. “What did I say? Answer me, slut, you wanted to get fucked dumb again, didn’tcha?” His words are harsher this time, demanding your attention.

“Yes, yes! Wan’ you to make me your little cockwhore, ‘Suki…” you confess, moaning when you feel his dick fully impale you. At the same time, Bakugou hisses at how your walls mercilessly hug his shaft.

“Yeah princess, I’m going to give you exactly what you need– Fuck! How are you so damn tight?!” It hasn’t even been ten hours since he had sex with you, stretching you into his shape last night until the sun shined, and yet you still had the innate ability to squeeze every ounce of pleasure out of him and then some. At this rate, he’s not going to last. “Need you to move, baby. Ride me already.”

Hearing the urgency in his tone, your hips begin moving on their own, dragging yourself on and off his cock. Hands on his shoulders, you leverage yourself to maintain a steady rhythm that had you both delirious and panting in pleasure. The blond’s thick fingers dig into your soft flesh, growls leaving his lips as fire flares in his veins, threatening to ignite his last ounce of willpower to allow you to keep this sustained tempo.

“F-Feeling good, ‘suki?” you question, looking down at him with a sinful expression painted on your gorgeous face—pretty eyes half-lidded and needy just for him.

“Yeah… God you make me act up all the damn time I–” His cock twitches between your tight folds, eyeing you from below and watching you clasp his hand that’s pawing your breast to gesture to him to play with you some more. The sensual yet genuine smile you give him ultimately breaks his resolve.

Oh, fuck it.

As if chains have snapped around him, Bakugou suddenly shoots up, carrying your body against him. He lays you across his desk quickly but carefully, with little regard for whatever else tumbles and falls off of it except for you.

You squeal in surprise, your arms and legs attempting to find purchase around him before you’re reduced to jelly by the new quickening pace of his cock pounding your insides.

“Oh my god… Katsuki!” The obscene slapping of skin on skin accompanies your desperate cries throughout his office. Arms that were wound around his neck lose their hold on him, pathetically dropping to your sides to clasp Katsuki’s wrists, where he’s pulling your thighs apart to spread you open for his unrelenting thrusts.

“Sorry, princess… you looked so damn hot I couldn’t hold back anymore. Needed to feel you deeper and make you cream already.” His tepid apologies don’t reach your ears as you’re overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of his movements, followed by a searing knot welling up in your abdomen.

By the looks of it, you have no objections to the turn of events, gazing dreamily at him as his hardened body hovers over you. From your point of view, you get glimpses of the sweat dotting his forehead, his nose scrunched in concentration, and narrowed ruby eyes glimmering with feral desire.

With stars in your eyes and features all flushed with warmth and lust, you sing a euphony of I love you’s between whimpers. Your voice catches in your throat when his cock repeatedly hits that sweet spot inside your gummy walls.

Bakugou can’t get enough of you, heart swelling with his affections that he can’t help but flick his wrist to intertwine his hand in yours. Despite his progressively carnal thrusts, he possesses contrasting tender devotions in his voice.

“I love you, princess. It’s been you and no one else. No other bitch can compare,” he repeats over and over like a mantra, a declaration of his loyalty to you and only you. You swear there’s an extra weight behind his words, but you’re too engrossed in the feeling of utter euphoria this man gives you in mind, body, and soul to give it a second thought. It’s as if you’re walking on Cloud 9 as your pussy clenches around him, back arching in the moment that’s pushing Bakugou to the breaking point

“So damn perfect, you were fucking made for me, baby. Give it to me, cum on my cock,” he pleads, “I know you’re almost there, princess.”

“Yea, ‘suki… Wanna cum for you, you make me feel so good,” you murmur brokenly, voice splintering into an incoherent babble that he finds so endearing, caressing your cheek while deepening his brutal pace. That knot in your tummy tightens and when the cord eventually snaps, you cry out, clutching onto his hand.

Katsuki insists he’s never seen a prettier sight than you finally losing yourself all because of him. It urges him to reach his own high and claim you in the only way he knows how—coming in your pretty cunt and dedicating himself wholly to you.

“Pretty angel, you’re making me crazy over here. Fuck! ‘Bout to blow my whole load inside you. That what you want?”

“Mhm! Please..!” You manage a few urgent pleas before Bakugou finally reaches his limit, groans resonating in the wake of his cock stuttering between your silky folds. His growls reverberate from the depths of his chest, thick with rapture as his body is bathed in the sweet sensation that is your entire being swallowing him whole. Ribbons of his cum paint your insides. You feel so full, both physically and spiritually, your heart bursting with love for the man that was spilling his adoration for you merely seconds ago.

Bodies spent and chests heaving, you lay on the desk with Katsuki on top of you. You don’t notice his hand sneaking under the desk, a click going off that goes equally overlooked, enveloped by your collective pants echoing in the stillness that is his hero office.

After a moment, the sensations catch up to you and the weight of his sweaty, heavy torso makes you squirm.

“Feel sticky…”

“There’s a shower and bath right there.” Bakugou grunts, but there’s playfulness behind his deceptively gruff mannerisms.

Your hands trail over his back at his response. “I know, but can you carry me?”

“Fine. Such a princess…”

“I’m your princess though.” You giggle, a teasing lilt in your carefree tone.

The blond can’t help the grin that finds his features. “Hell yeah you are.”

Bakugou pulls on his uniformed cargo pants to scrounge together some semblance of decency as he cradles you against him. Your body is like jelly in the Pro Hero’s strong arms, barely exercising the strength to hold onto him properly as he moves you to the unnecessarily luxurious bathroom built in his office. While setting you down on the counter next to the sink, the pager in his pocket rings.

“Food’s finally here.” He reaches for a hanger on the door, finding a bathrobe to blanket you in. “I’ll be back.”

You raise a brow. “Going out like that?”

“Relax, I’m putting a shirt on obviously.”

“A shirt, huh?” Not at all convinced, you cross your legs. You and him both know he absolutely reeks of sex. The marks you gave him are also an obvious giveaway. No doubt he’ll be an eye-turner to anyone he crosses paths with at the agency.

“Fine, I’ll have someone bring it up.” He meets you in the middle and you happily oblige, shoo-ing him to go about his business once again. The blond rolls his eyes, exiting the bathroom and out the large double doors of his office to wait at the elevator for his delivery.

And when those doors open with a ding, he’s greeted by the very last person he wishes to see. Swathed in the overbearing odor of her pungent perfume, his secretary stands heel-to-heel in the elevator, eyes crossed and a furious blush penetrating the matte layer of her foundation. Her steps traverse the threshold between the lift and hallway. With hands balled into small fists, she jabs the plastic bag of take-out food into the hero’s chest before wagging her finger at his disinterested demeanor.

“You..! You! How dare you?! Why, I should charge you for sexual harassment for what you did! So uncouth! Barbaric even!” She lectures vehemently, voice dripping with malice akin to the insults she practically spits at his face. The benevolent facade she dons everyday to garner his favor crumbles to pieces before his eyes and Bakugou can’t contain his laughter at the pathetic display.

“What’s so funny?!”

“Oh man, you’re a riot aren’t ya? You coulda very well just turn off your speaker if it bothered you so damn much,” he suggests, but the glint in his expression tells the woman he can see right through her. “But you didn’t, did you? You listened in on the whole thing like a fuckin’ pervert.”

At his deduction, the secretary blushes even harder. The fists at her sides shake with an anger that boils under her skin, melting her composure like the wicked witch of the west.

“Why you..! You’re the pervert here! Don’t think you can turn the situation on me when you’re the one who instigated this!” She points an accusing finger in his direction, an empty threat to the indifferent blond.

The hero barely offers her a scoff. “Me? The instigator? You got some fucking nerve saying that when all month you’ve been coming onto me practically on all fours despite knowing I’m a taken man.” Now it’s his turn to retort with equal venom and then some. His sudden switch in demeanor quickly overwhelms the woman as with every step he takes forward, she grows smaller and smaller.

“What’re you going to do? Tell the media? Report me to the authorities? Make a bunch of baseless rumors on your online blog? Well news flash—unlike you I’m irreplaceable. There won’t ever be another hero that has left as big of a mark on this country as I have, and you know it.” He holds his chest proudly after every word. In his presence, the secretary shrinks, gradually cowering back toward the elevator. Any semblance of nerve she held vanishes in front of her.

“Now start packing your things. If I don’t see your station left spotless by tomorrow morning I’ll make sure your days working for the hero industry are numbered.” It’s a threat she doesn’t dare challenge, wordlessly pressing a button on the panel to descend the floors and flee with her tail between her legs. The flabbergasted expression on her face is the last he sees of her.

And just like that, Katsuki feels a weight evaporate from his shoulders, releasing a deep sigh he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He bounds back to his office with your lunch in tow.

When he returns, he overhears the water running in the bathroom before it’s soon shut off.

“Ah, ‘Suki, you’re back! I just filled the tub with water for our bath.” Your sincere smile meets his eyes which soften at the mere glimpse of you kneeling next to the tub, patiently awaiting his arrival.

“Fuck, babe, you weren’t suppose to move. Should be too sore after what I did t’ya.” He hoists you off the floor and into welcoming arms.

You pout cutely. “C’mon now, I’m not helpless you know.”

“‘Course not. But you’re my princess, remember? All mine.” He settles you both into the depths of the soothing, warm tub, nestling your body against his chest as he presses kisses in every area of tender skin he laid his claim on.

“And I plan to treat you like one for the rest of our lives.”

.

.

The very next morning, he finds a letter of resignation on his desk—the very place the two of you had fucked.

copyright 2022 shotoh, all rights reserved. i do not allow my creations to be published or translated elsewhere so please do not repost this or share my content on tiktok.

[pearlywritings]

A slip of the tongue

synopsis: as smart as Alhaitham is, sometimes he blurts out things without thinking twice. It's good, however, that your husband knows when an apology is due, even though it doesn't mean you (and your friend) won't come up with something to pay him back with~

pairing and characters: Alhaitham x fem!reader

tw: established relationship (marriage), little hurt/instant comfort, a bit suggestive, Kaveh is lowkey couple's marriage counselor

word count: 3.7k+ words

a/n: wow, finally releasing this one out of the basement!

Here is the second part btw

Your cheek starts hurting from how long the knuckles of your fist have been digging into it. Fingertips drum on your knee, as legs stay crossed and stare fixed on the figure before you, sitting on the chair across the table and not taking the eyes off of the book pages. The most infuriating part of it? The figure is talking.

"...and so you should be prepared for Rajkumar's endless questions. He might not have any relation to Haravatat or languages at all, but he has a bone to pick with me, so being my wife puts you in a position to attack. And you know how annoying it is to converse with an idiot."

Yeah, probably as much as hearing what you are already aware of. You love your husband, you truly do, but sometimes the urge to smack the back of his head and tell him to shut up is too tempting.

All you said was that you were a little nervous and mentioned that tomorrow is indeed one of the most important days for you. After all, you are going to defend your second thesis, one you spent years to complete and pass all sorts of verification, reviews and censorship. Having the Scribe as your husband had both its perks and drawbacks in the process - he could easily push your work forward to the necessary people in charge of all the mentioned above stages of approbation, but then the fact he was your spouse put a label on you for those who were aware, and it said “Needs to be examined more thoroughly”. Though come to think of it, it’s pretty illogical.

Fortunately you never had troubles with that - after all your brain was in place, and both topics of your first and now current papers were innovative. Moreso, many of your Haravatat professors agree on your academic success and some of them expressed their hope to see you in the role of their colleague in the future.

But it’s for the future. First you need to become the Dastur, and for that you need to defend your thesis in the present. You have absolutely everything ready, no one knows your topic better than you are (maybe only Alhaitham can come close, since he read and reread it multiple times, helping with editing and providing impartial perspective), and years at the Akademyia taught you how to withstand the piercing eyes and prickling words of the jury. You will be fine.

Or you thought so, before just one phrase of yours started this whole exchange that is now happening in your kitchen.

“...and remember the part in the third chapter we discussed with you. This will be the one they’ll claw at, since it’s a turning point in a whole theory and I heard some of them already criticizing it,” the male hums, turning another page, eyes scanning the words written on a yellowed from time piece of paper. This seems the last comment of his, as he falls silent, reaching for the cup of coffee you’ve made him - in the process of which you were short-sighted to voice your concern.

When a minute passes and you do not answer anyhow to any of the valuable advice he’s just given you, Alhaitham lowers his book and stares at you. You keep drumming your fingers on your knee, eyes boring into him and almost unblinking, and it’s not hard for such an observant man to notice a barely-veiled displeasure in your tired eyes and a scowl.

"You know you could've just said you are worried about tomorrow too, and leave it at that?"

Alhaitham blinks, hand frozen in the middle of lowering the mug back on the table. He is holding your gaze and you can practically see the thoughts running through his mind, he is clearly contemplating how to answer your bold statement.

“Why would I be worried?” He finally answers with a question on your own, putting the mug on the flat surface. “It’s just a thesis defense, and if you get rid of your nervousness you’ll see that you already have the Dastur title in your pocket. Tomorrow is just a formality for you.”

“So you are not coming to watch me tomorrow?” Your scowl and frown deepens, fingers stopping abusing your knee and curling in a fist instead. Your husband sighs, marking the page with a bookmark you’ve made for him and closing the volume he’s been on for the past week. Then his captivating eyes are back on you.

“Scribe isn’t required to attend. Besides-”

“Yeah, yeah, you know my work enough to not hear anything new in my presentation,” you interrupt him and he can clearly hear rising anger in your voice that wasn’t there before. It actually manages to shut him up. “As my husband, as my support, are you going to come?”

The man feels a twinge of guilt in his heart. He always prided himself of his intelligence and attentiveness, yet just now he failed to assume what exactly you expected of his presence. Of course he’d want to give you a peace of mind by being there, but it seems he is too used to uttering the same phrase every single time someone asks him to come, that it was out faster than he had a moment to think it over properly.

He sees a bit too late how your face drops when he doesn’t give you an answer immediately - it looks like his pause appeared to be hesitance to you. He slightly panics when you lower your gaze and move to uncross your legs to stand up, having an almost iron grip on the back of the chair.

“Wait- Dear, I will come,” at that your eyes flicker at him, with doubt on display in your beautiful orbs. “I promise, I’ll be there.”

“I thought you didn’t like to be around idiots the whole day,” you huff, crossing your arms, reminding him of how unflattering his words towards some of his colleagues were. You do not mean to act childish, but tomorrow is really important to you, and obviously you’d want to have your husband be there to share it with you.

Alhaitham puts the book aside and stands up as well, rounding the table and coming closer to you. His fingers deftly touch your elbow, and you will yourself not to jerk it, some annoyance still bubbling in your system.

“That is correct. However, you are not one of them,” he murmurs, caressing your arm. You huff again, but this time your posture is more relaxed. “Besides, all you need is to be confident, and if my presence can assure you that, then I’ll be more than happy to be there for you.”

You give him a long stare. Your drilling eyes to his bewitching ones, searching for the truth in the greenish depths, while he stands still, waiting patiently, expecting your verdict silently. It’s as your frown softens, he knows you’ve found what you’ve been looking for in this kind of staring contest.

“Oh Archons, Alhaitham…” You shake your head with a small smile and the man feels relief washing over him. You are no longer mad at him. At least, it seems so. That is definitely good. “We’ve been married for years and it still surprises me how you can be a jerk - affectionately - one moment, and a completely sweet guy another.”

“Maybe just as quick you are switching from fuming to forgiving,” his palms are warm as they slide up your arms, featherly resting on your shoulders. Your smile widens a little and you meet him in the middle when he leans to press his forehead to yours.

“Yeah, yeah… But to your credit you were quick to fix your attitude, and as long as it’s sincere, I am grateful.”

“It is sincere,” he says with emphasis. “You know I am not the one to change my mind lightly.

Or rather realizing when an apology is due.

You hum, content with his answer. Yet, a mischievous glint finds its place in your eyes.

“Even though you are forgiven, I am still complaining to Kaveh about the mean and heartless husband of mine.”

“Of course you are,” he rolls his eyes, but you know it’s playful. He knows it too, and the shift in the mood is apparent, and he is thankful for its course to the positive destination. “I guess it’s deserved.”

“Don’t worry, he won’t be glaring at you murderously. Much.”

Alhaitham only sighs at your giggles. He could care less of what the blond architect would say about him, so he’ll survive some annoyed buzzing from the senior, and if the little exchange which is about to occur makes you happy - he doesn’t mind. Plus it will be good for you to take your mind off of tomorrow.

“I’ll trust you on that,” he finally says, slowly leaning back. You smile, patting the back of his hand still resting on your shoulder in reassurance. With a promise to collect you from your ‘girlish talk’ (you swat his shoulder at that) in a couple of hours, your husband helps you to make a new pot of tea. It’s quite ironic that this one is gonna be emptied while he’s the main focus of the conversation.

Minutes later, when you leave the kitchen with a tray, Alhaitham can faintly hear the knocks on the other end of the house, and the door opening not a minute later, the voice of the man you two have been housing for months coming clear and concerned. Kaveh remained your friend even when he and Alhaitham got in a horrible fight over their beliefs and you were partially the reason why the Haravatat graduate was convinced to let the blonde stay. Though loud, flamboyant and snarky, there is some perks of having him around - even if the architect always complains how he didn’t sign up to be a marriage counselor, he’s never let you or your husband be in a conflict for long (fortunately it happened really rarely), being your shoulder to tear up on or begrudgingly becoming an ear to be talked of by the other man and the foot that would kick Alhaitham into action or the hand that would gently nudge you in the right direction.

Or, just like tonight, simply be ‘your girl’ to chat with.

Alhaitham, as promised, lets you be for a couple of hours, meanwhile busying himself with his book. To outsiders this scene may appear weird and paint the Scribe in an awful light as a husband - but it is just like that with this man. And the strange dynamic the three of you have while staying under one roof: a wife, a husband and their… loquacious canary-like-therapist.

Only when it’s close to the time you usually go to sleep, does he also end up before the door of Kaveh’s temporary room, and firmly knocks three times.

“What?” Unsurprisingly it's the blonde’s voice, and by the tone of it he is pissed. The ash-haired male chooses to ignore him.

“Darling, let’s go to bed,” he calls for you softly. 

Alhaitham hears shuffling and muffled curses the architect surely prepared for him and some short, but incomprehensible conversation happening between you two. Not a moment later though, the door opens revealing your face, and your husband can’t help but feel extra weight lifted off his shoulders. No line reappeared between your eyebrows, no pout and no distress is written on your face. Quite the contrary, when your eyes meet, you give him the same warm smile you graced him with back in the kitchen.

“Sure, let’s go. It’s quite late already and we need to wake up early tomorrow,” you hum, exiting the room. Through the gap Alhaitham spots Kaveh sitting over some blueprints with two mugs on the table and a chair placed on the opposite side of the fine piece of furniture. When the architect lifts his eyes to glare at him, the Scribe slams the door closed. To your bedroom you returned with arms linked.

The silence of your shared space is comforting and is only disturbed by your light steps and rustle of changed clothes. The Scribe glances at you every two minutes, still a tiny bit concerned about that animatic exchange you had back in the kitchen.

“You know I will come, right?” The man suddenly asks you, as you’re fluffing the pillows. Your eyes slightly widen for a brief moment, so quickly that he almost misses it, but then they soften again as you chuckle.

“Yes, I know, dear. Sorry I reacted the way I did initially. It seems I really was pent up after all.”

“I could tell. You looked like you could bite my head o- ow!” He gasps when you throw your pillow into his face, which he catches at the last second.

“Oh, shut it, or I might get mad again,” but there is no anger in your eyes, only hardly veiled mischief. He drops your weapon of choice back onto bed and raises his hands in defense.

“Okay, okay, point taken. Any way I can make it up to you?”

At that your eyes strangely glint, and the scholar can’t place his finger on what exactly feels off about it. But it does.

“Actually you can. I’d like you to wake me up when you do, and let me use the shower first.”

And that’s it? Well, odd, but not disturbingly odd. Surely you wouldn’t go as far as to play some pranks on him by mixing something in his shampoo - you are way too intelligent for that. Also not one for revenge. 

“Of course. I will wake you when I do so myself, and let you use the bathroom first.”

Even if the mornings are not Alhaitham’s forte, he still opens his eyes disgustingly early, so sleeping for a bit more while you are at your morning routine sounds nice. Not as nice as doing it with you in his arms, but still quite nice.

“Thank you, dear. Now, if you are going to read-”

“Not tonight. You need sleep,” to that you smile warmly, crawling under the blankets, which he is quick to follow. You do not deny his embrace, and willingly scoot closer, extending an arm to put around his waist, as he does the same. Nor you turn away from a kiss he places on your forehead, pecking his chin in response.

“Good night, Alhaitham.”

“Good night, Y/n.”

True to his word, your husband pulls you out of the dreamland just moments later after exiting it himself. Cerulean eyes drink in your sleepy face contorting in displeasure, arms reaching over your head, and body arching in a morning stretch. He can’t help himself, leaning close and pressing a kiss just above the hem of your chemise, relishing the feeling of your heart thumping against his lips. You yawn, reaching a hand into his hair, but your breath hitches, when his mouth is suddenly on your throat, peppering it with soft pecks.

“Mmm… If you are trying to make up for yesterday you are a bit late,” your groggy voice is so adorable to the man. With you he tends to forget how to rationalize things. Yesterday was one of the times when his ‘Alhaitham for anyone else but his wife’ slipped into his interaction with you, the behavior he’s been trying for years to suppress when it comes to you. Now he knows he should’ve acted differently, and regrets his unique way of trying to give you reassurance. If only he-

“Are you overthinking again?” 

Your question makes him emerge back to reality. Eyes meet, and his heart skips a beat when you smile at him. Archons, you are beautiful.

“You know I am joking? Yesterday was yesterday, and you are already making it up to me, right?”

Words can’t describe how much he loves you, and at this moment he feels like he’ll never be able to express it fully.

“Right. Shower is all yours. Also,” he leans in again, placing a kiss on the corner of your mouth, “good morning.”

Your smile gets wider and you wrap your arms around his frame to kiss his cheek.

“Morning, Haitham.”

With you gone to the shower, the man buries himself in your pillow, inhaling the lingering scent. Sometimes he thinks he doesn’t deserve you. Your husband is intelligent enough to evaluate his own deeds and behavior, so he knows he is far from perfect to be someone’s partner. Yet, here you are, loving and accepting all his flaws - not without some complaint, but you are trying.

He might come off as arrogant to some people, but in arguments with you, he can tell when it’s his fault and not blame you for giving him a cold shoulder and requesting some space. He might look like he doesn’t care, but he cares for you, for your well-being, for your likes and dislikes, for your opinion, carefully storing all this valuable information in his brain, to show how much you mean to him. He is aware he has a long road ahead of him to get rid of all of his annoying conversing habits, but he is willing to keep trying for you. He seems to not show gratitude to anyone, but he is so grateful that you remain by his side, going as far as telling him you are proud to be his wife.

He wants you to know that it’s mutual.

That being said, Alhaitham is a smart man, but when he himself exits the bathroom after his shower time, his brain is reduced to just one thought.

You are absolutely gorgeous.

His gaze is chained to your pretty fingers, rolling the long, dark green stocking up your left leg. His throat bobs, when the elastic hem of it snaps against your skin, squeezing the flesh of your thigh a little. Then you take the second one, elegantly lifting the other leg and repeating the taunting process, but this time he is here to watch it from the beginning to the very end.

You happily hum, observing your work, and, satisfied, get on your feet, adjusting the band of your panties a little. Archons, you are wearing a matching set of the richest green shade. Lace leaves little to imagination, as his eyes flicker up to your chest, noting the pretty, natural swell of it and the outline of your nipples, and then down, as you turn around and bend to grab the shirt from the bed, demonstrating to him your ass and thighs.

His hand almost reaches out to touch you, to get a hold of the round globe, to sink his lithe fingers in your flesh. After all, your husband is not above earthly pleasures.

But your voice snaps him out of it.

"My love, if you keep standing like this in the middle of the room with just a towel on and no intention to dress, you might be late for breakfast," you chide him not even turning around and throw on the shirt, hiding the bra and some of the lower half, yet still leaving a bit of an appetizing view for an eye.

Alhaitham wills himself to tear the almost burning gaze away from you and redirect it to his own clothes, already prepared and neatly hanging on a chair. You mischievously smile as he takes a step to move past your figure. He's kept alarmingly silent and you are dying to know what reaction he has for your little plan. 

The man has just a second to react when you abruptly turn around and stumble into him. Big palms instantly grab your hips to steady you against his chest, and the heart quickens at the feeling of soft lace under his fingertips, peeking from beneath the hem of the shirt he accidentally crumpled in the process. Your hands on his chest are so warm, put out just in time to catch yourself, and Alhaitham finds himself thinking of how would've it felt if your chests collided - maybe the thin material of the only layer of clothes you have on paired with some flimsy bra would not make any difference from direct skin to skin contact?

"Ah, sorry, 'haithy," you sheepishly smile up at him, eyes soft and staring innocently, "Are you alright? I haven't heard you speak ever since you left for the shower…"

Archons, please, don't let his voice betray him.

"I'm," he quickly clears his throat, "alright. Was just about to start dressing."

You hum, pushing onto his pectorals to move away and continue with your own - though slightly changed - routine, but strong fingers flex, keeping you in place by the sheer hold on your hips. You look at him inquiringly, ignoring how the very tips of his thumbs just barely slip under the thin material of your panties to caress your hip bones. It's almost an absentminded action.

"What's with this lingerie?" He finally drops the question swirling on his tongue ever since he first laid his eyes on the tantalizing sight. It's hard to hold back a smirk - you admit you were a bit doubtful if it'd actually grab your husband's attention. Who knew the stoic man was into it…

"Oh, this?" Nonchalantly you tug on the collar of your shirt and Alhaitham sharply inhales upon catching a glimpse of your barely covered breast again. "Do not worry, habibi, it is not to seduce you," he is not that sure about it. 

Taking his hands in yours, you pry them off of your body and put them back to his sides, gracing his waist just above the towel with your touch. He shivers.

"I know it's different from what I usually wear, especially to work," you admit, turning around again, to grab the robes of the Akademyia's scholar. "But I really-really loved this one I purchased a couple of weeks ago on that outing with the girls. I feel so beautiful in it," fuck, you are. "And today is a special day. Want to have some confidence, you know?"

And as the rest of your body disappears under the long article of clothing, Alhaitham is finally aware of what this whole thing is about.

It's going to be an agonizingly endless day, where the only thing he can do is watch.

[strlvvr]

my best friend’s brother (is the one for me) - part two

part two!! i’m so excited for this series guys

word count: 945 words

read part one here !

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all i’ve been able to think about is the interaction between me and matt. the way he whispered in my ear, the hand on my back, the way he played with my hair, how he got up to “go to the bathroom”. i knew exactly why he had to get up. it was kinda hard to ignore honestly.

“i’m going to bed, you coming?” nick asked me as he was getting up and putting his blanket away.

“no, i’m not too tired yet,” i moved over on the couch a bit to grab my drink, trying to ignore matt’s stare.

“well i’m gonna go to my room for the night.” chris said, also putting away his blanket and grabbing his drink, heading down the stairs to his room.

me and matt stayed quiet for a couple more minutes, just watching whatever was on after the crow. 

“just us now…” matt said quietly, grabbing the remote to put something else on. he decided on inception, another one of my favorite movies, which he knew.

“2010 was leo’s best year for movies,” i moved to face matt to debate with him over this.

“oh yeah? and why’s that?” matt asked with a smile. this is a topic we discuss often.

“well he had inception AND shutter island come out that year. arguably two of his best movies.” he just watched as i ranted about leo dicaprio and just movies in general. chiming in with yeahs and acknowledgments, but letting me talk. i swear for a second, i almost saw a look of love in his eyes. 

i quickly dismissed the thought and let myself get lost in the movie after my rant. i moved over to back over to matt, missing the comfort of being in his arms. he gladly pulled me into him and we sat like that for most of the movie, only moving to grab more snacks or our drinks.  

as the movie started ending, i felt matt’s breathing get slower, subtle snores leaving his mouth. i looked around and saw the mess left by nick and chris and sighed, knowing we had to clean it up. i started to get up to get a start on the cleaning, but matt, half asleep, pulled me back down, mumbling something i didn’t quite hear. 

“mmm stay here.” he grumbled, tightening his grip on my waist.

“matt, we have to clean up the garbage..” i whispered, hoping he wouldn’t hear me and let go. unfortunately he did and loosened his grip, letting me get up. he slowly got up, grabbing the candy wrappers around him and followed me towards the kitchen.

“nick’s probably asleep already.” he pointed out, grabbing more garbage from the table. 

“yeah..” i put away our blankets and fixed up the couch.

“you can always come sleep with me.” he said quietly, watching me walk around the living room to find the remote. “it’s over there,” he pointed to where we had just been sitting. 

i chuckled, grabbing the remote and turning the tv off. 

“i think i might take you up on the offer,” i said, searching for any sign of regret on his face, finding none.

he put the last piece of garbage away and started walking to his room, stopping and looking back to see if i was following him. once i grabbed our phones, i headed toward him and his room.

no matter how many times i’ve slept in here, it always feels awkward at first. he always points out how i sleep better in his bed, and i always blame it on how comfy his bed is, even though it has nothing to do with his bed but everything to do with him. 

he walked over to the bed, pulling back the blankets and getting in. i stayed put by the door, just watching him awkwardly.

“are you just gonna stand there all night?” he questioned me, pulling the blanket off the other side of the bed for me.

“i was thinking about it,” i walked over to my side and got in, immediately being met with the softness of his blanket and the smell of his cologne. i grabbed his remote to put on some random show. we debated on a couple before deciding on family guy. staying on our respected sides while intently watching the show we’ve both seen hundreds of times, not daring to move closer to each other. as if we weren’t just cuddling on the couch and falling asleep together out there. 

it was different in his bed though. almost like it was too intimate to cuddle in a bed. we wouldn’t dare take that step in our friendship, even if we would wake up like that anyway. the more tired i got, the less i cared. i moved closer to him, feeling him do the same. he put his arm out, signaling for me to lay on him. none of us said anything, we stayed watching the tv. there was an understanding between us that it was a comfortable silence.

‘this is normal, there’s nothing deeper to this. just two friends cuddling and watching tv.’ i thought, feeling him play with my hair and rub the leg i snuck onto him. i was trying to ignore the flutter in my stomach with every move of his thumb on my thigh and pushing away all the thoughts that snuck into my mind. 

slowly i started to fall asleep in matt’s arms. right before i fell asleep, i felt him reach for the remote to turn off his tv.

“goodnight baby.” he whispered, before kissing the top of my head and falling asleep himself.

tag list:

@beersangel @whoseyouare @wh0schl0 @st7rnioioss @slutsformatt @h3arts4harry

[strawbeerossi]

A Helping Hand

Pairing: Gender Neutral!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: You have an issue with staring at your professors hands.

Content/Warnings: Course language, Reader has some perverted thoughts, hand kink, finger sucking, sexual tension, fade to black sex.

Word Count: 0.9K

Kinktober Day Sixteen: Quirofilia

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

Spencer Reid had sexy hands. That was a given. The prominent veins in his hands made you drool, wanting nothing more than to suck on his fingers or have that same hand wrapped tight around your throat. 

It was easy to discreetly stare, mainly telling your professor you tended to zone out quite a lot. It wasn;t exactly a lie, yet you didn’t describe the fantasies of having him shove two fingers in your mouth to keep you quiet while brutally assaulting your sex in his office after class. The vivid thoughts of feeling those large hands gripping your hips or bringing it to cover your mouth had you in a spiral.

You didn’t ever expect to feel these feelings towards a man who was old enough to be your father, however you weren’t going to complain. He was an attractive man and he knew that, carrying himself with a form of confidence that didn’t make him arrogant but made him self aware as to why so many people audited his class over the thousands of others that were probably more aligned with their interests.

You liked how patient he was, even despite his time in prison. He always had a smile on his face when discussing lesson plans, talking with his hands and it was truly the cutest thing you’d seen. He always enjoyed when he was rambling during his lectures, dumping every ounce of information on the subject with everyone else. 

Today was no different, Dr. Reid going into the intricacies of triggers in budding unsubs as well as what could be a trigger and what wouldn’t be. It was admittedly a boring lesson but thankfully, he was excited about the topic to ramble for the full hour of the lecture.

You’d been ‘zoning out’ the whole lesson, practically drooling over the sight of his hands as he did many gestures for his talking points. You could only imagine the trigger it would take to have those hands gripping your body, pulling you flush against him in the front of the empty classroom while he wandered your body with care, wanting to feel every dip and curve.

You were staying after class today, mainly to discuss a research paper that he’d given at the beginning of the week. As soon as the class was being wrapped up and you got the opportunity to catch your sexy professor alone, you jumped to it. “Dr. Reid,” 

Most of the girls in the class looked at you with annoyance, having similar ideas to you in order to have a fraction of the man’s attention.

“I was wondering if I could discuss my paper with you, I’m struggling to differentiate between triggers and stressors.” You didn’t really have trouble with it but he didn’t have to know that. With his million dollar smile, Spencer was gesturing for the page in your hand, which was essentially just a layout. “I can help you with that, you know, I figured you would have no trouble with the assignment. You know you are one of my best students.” He spoke as he was letting his eyes glance over the handwritten notes you’d had.

His eyebrow raised, looking back up at you. “You’re confused? These notes are perfect and you have a clear layout for your paper. Why would you pretend like you had no idea what you were doing?” 

Fuck. You handed him the wrong paper, it was supposed to be the one filled with mixed information.

“O-oh, I..” You paused while looking over in his direction while your cheeks were heating up from embarrassment. Spencer seemed to catch on though, chuckling. “You know you could’ve just asked to speak to me. I would’ve accepted it. Now, why are you really here?” 

“I, uh, well I wanted to just talk to you about the assignment.” You let your shoulders sink.

“You are a horrible liar. Let’s not forget that I am a profiler. Seriously, is everything okay?” The paper in his hand was being handed back to you, a soft squeak leaving your lips as his hand brushed against yours. “It’s nothing! I should go!” You panicked, ready to run out of the lecture hall before Spencer was grounding you by wrapping his hand around your wrist. “I notice the way you stare at me. Was this just an excuse to talk to me?” Instead of seeming uncomfortable, he looked intrigued. “Come here. Please.” He spoke while letting go of you.

Now you could run, however his voice was luring you closer, now standing on the other side of his desk. Your gaze trailed to his hands briefly, making your professor lift his hands up, almost as if he was giving you a better look at the large, veiny hands. “Quirofilia, or the attraction to hands, is actually fairly common in terms of attraction.” He caught you. Fuck.

“I-is it?” You asked, the male nodding as he offered a smile and brought his hand up to cup your cheek. “Very. Some people like being scratched, others like being caressed, sucking fingers is also another very popular method.” He listed off his facts, his thumb running alongside your jaw. This wasn’t real, was it? No, it couldn’t be. It sure as hell felt real, especially when the pad of his thumb was swiping over your lower lip.

You didn’t see a point in denying such an open invitation, your lips closing around his thumb once you’d taken it into your mouth. “You’re a finger sucker.” Spencer concluded, chuckling as your cheeks hollowed as you sucked and swirled your tongue around his thumb. “And a very eager one at that. Come here.” He murmured, now pushing the things on his desk out of his way, gesturing for you to perch your body on the desk as he was moving to run his hands over your clothed thighs.

“Let’s explore this kink together, shall we?”

[bluejeanstrash]

inspired by this and this (sfw)

tags: idol! seungcheol x idol! reader, reader is a certified brat, brat taming, seungcheol and reader are hooking up, use of oppa and hyung, suggestive conversation | wc: 1.4k

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

seungcheol swears he’s mistaken when he hears the first paparazzi call your name. but there it is again, and again, and by the time the crowd is screaming hysterically, he’s sure it must be you. he turns around as he’s being escorted into the venue to see you on the red carpet, waving to the cameras, posing with a poise only a professional idol has. you look jaw-droppingly good, and he curses at the fact that he only got to see you for two seconds.

things work out in his favour though. he reaches his table to see a place card with your name on it. idols seated together. not a bad marketing decision.

unlike the vibrant red carpet, the inside of the venue is dim, a velvety purple hue painting the room, and there’s a dj whose set suits seungcheol’s taste. it’s nice being here after months of hiatus, and it would be even nicer if you’d get here quicker. your group and seventeen were contemporaries, and pretty good friends, though in the public eye it seemed like you’d barely interacted. everyone wanted to keep it that way.

finally, after what feels like hours, you walk in, heads turning as you make your way to the table. he checks you out, slowly this time, blown away by just how incredible you look. your dress is sensual yet subtle, and his hands are itching to feel the fabric, and you under it. you’re a few steps away when you pause, spotting him, equally surprised to see him here. you would rarely cross paths during schedules, so this was unusual.

respectful bows are exchanged before you take a seat. a waiter comes by to drop off glasses of champagne, and you take that as an opportunity to check seungcheol out. all black everything with faded auburn hair looks very sexy on him. you make a quick decision about what you want him to do to you in this outfit.

‘i didn’t know you were attending. just you?’ he asks politely, in stark contrast to how impolitely he'd fucked you the last time you met.

‘just me. just you?’

‘and wonwoo. wonwoo!’ seungcheol waves him down as wonwoo makes his way to the table, taking a seat to your other side.

‘hyung, they need you for some solo press’ he informs and seungcheol is escorted away by his manager.

in the 10 to 15 minutes that seungcheol’s gone, you make small talk with wonwoo, touching on agency-approved topics like comebacks, dance challenges, and the like. topics that wouldn’t cause an internet meltdown when someone would inevitably zoom into your lips and try to breakdown every word being said.

what you’d actually been dying to discuss with wonwoo was his latest fling, and why he’d ghosted them, but that’s filed away for another day.

seungcheol returns with a second drink in his hand, and message for wonwoo ‘wonwoo-ya, they’re calling you now. do well’ he encourages like always.

seungcheol takes a seat beside you, close enough to dispel any negative rumours and far enough to not get pulled into dating ones.

‘have you finished press?’

‘what?’ you lean forward, the music too loud to speak at a distance. he does the same, almost placing his hand on your thigh but he catches himself in the last second, closing his palm into a loose fist and resting it on the table. seungcheol repeats his question, and you nod. yes, you’re done with press.

‘there are way too many cameras here’ he recognises a few fans who run his biggest fansites, all “discreetly” pointing huge DSLRs in his direction. he has to be careful not to accidentally touch you. not to do something that makes both your names start trending tonight.

‘are you done with schedule? what are you doing after this?’ he gives your dress a once over, trying to figure out how to undo it. there’s a complicated knot at the back which makes him eager to try.

the corners of your mouth curl into a playful smile before you take a sip of the bubbly. the sparkling gold goes down easy, and your words come out smooth,

‘you’

his eyes widen as the gulp of champagne he’s taking enters the wrong pipe, sending him into a tiny coughing fit. his eyes dart around the room to see if anyone caught that.

he takes another sip to recover, regaining any composure lost. then he leans in, plump cherry lips brushing against your ear ‘don’t say shit like that when we’re in public or i swear to god’

he sits back, adjusting the fall of his suit, and runs his fingers nervously through his thick hair which bounces right back into place.

this time you lean in completely, seungcheol refusing to meet you halfway, your earrings dangling with the motion ‘or what? what’s oppa going to do to me? punish me for being bad?’ you have a dangerous lilt in your tone that makes his dick throb.

‘stop. it.’ he mouths a warning. as if that has ever made a difference.

to seungcheol’s surprise, you had turned out to be quite a handful. you were different from your idol image. same, but different. he’d liked you instantly when you’d met outside work at his manager’s party and one thing led to another till you both had hooked up. he couldn’t believe it. you were two of his favourite things — a brat and a nasty slut combined into one gorgeous woman, and seungcheol wouldn’t have it any other way.

though, right now he could, because at this moment you were a pain in the ass and a throb in his dick, both of which he couldn’t afford. it’s not like he could refuse to engage in conversation with you. how bad would that look? so he stays still, listening to whatever lewd filth you’re whispering into his ear.

‘oppa, you know that thing you said you wanted to try with me? you wanted to put it inside my…while you turned on the vibrator in my other hole? can we try it? please?’ you leave your words vague, his imagination running wild. he’s going to kill you. it can’t get any worse, he thinks, but then the music changes.

an rnb song. no, an rnb song that’s no. 24 on your blended spotify sex playlist. in a biological reaction that would make pavlov proud, his cock starts to stiffen in his pants from the very first note. he catches your eye, looking away instantly. this is bad. this is very bad.

in an attempt to hide the tent that’s pitching in his pants, seungcheol crosses one leg over the other, taking further precautions to cover his crotch with a drape of his arms. it’s clear to you what’s happening, and if it wasn’t obvious enough he starts bouncing his knee, moving it a million times a minute. he’d read somewhere it gets rid of an unwanted erection, but it seems to be doing jack shit.

you lean back, amused, smoothing a flyaway hair, and elegantly throw your sleek locks over your shoulder to reveal a hint of your cleavage. seungcheol has spent a lot of time in there — kissing, licking, sucking…and shooting cum on that strip of skin. you know what you’re doing. he knows what you’re doing. the waiter who just walked past knows what you’re doing. seungcheol makes a mental note to tell his manager not to book you both at the same event ever again.

he tears his gaze away from your chest, focusing on the table in front of him. how many overlapping stitches can he see? he counts.

but you’re not done yet. no, you want him riled up and pissed off. you want that vein in his neck to pop. you wonder if you can run the risk of sliding your foot up his leg. probably not, and yet a second later the point of your heel slides up the inner seam of his pants, making him jump in his chair.

his jaw clenches, his neck tightens ‘that’s enough, you fucking brat’ he spits, forgetting to lean in or hide his mouth.

you grin impishly, taking a congratulatory sip of your champagne. he doesn’t know this but you’re soaking wet, your panties sticking uncomfortably to your cunt. riling him up always made you leak arousal in anticipation for the impending punishment.

unfortunately, before you can get a teaser of what’s to come, wonwoo returns, walking alongside your manager. you’ve done your part, made your appearance, and it’s time to leave, he says. you say your goodbyes, first to wonwoo, and then turn to seungcheol who lets out a small huff of air before standing up. he smiles for the cameras and bows, glaring at you as you lock eyes and whispers,

‘you’re in so much trouble’

[loveemagicpeace]

🤍10th house Energy🤍

House of Career & Public Standing. 10th House rules all matters outside the home—your profession, your status in the community, and your public reputation. It has been called the House of ambition, aspiration, and attainment. This House also reveals in what esteem you are held by others. The 10th house reflects your image, as shown in the power, position, and honors that you may achieve. It is an outward expression of your talents, the way you accept responsibility, the place you arrive at through your own efforts. This House has a great influence on your material success in life. But it is also the house of karma( which means there's a lot to learn here). 10th house also represents masculine energy, father, grandfather, authority figures, people you meet in public.

☀️Sun in 10th house- the sun represents the father, playfulness, inspiration, light, childhood memories. Your inspiration can often be your father, you can also have a good relationship with him. It can also play an important role in your life and career. You want to shine in the world and leave a mark, so many times you become something more and are visible to the audience. You tend to do something that brings you excitement. You have a strong sense of self and a drive to succeed. Even your early life can be full of good memories. Usually these people have a good childhood memory.

🥨Moon in 10th house- the relationship with the father may be more emotionally distant. It can contain a lot of emotional energy. Your mother can have a great influence on your career and you can also look up to her or help you. Your home can become your work environment. Many times your career is connected to your parents and something that can be passed down in the family. You are involved with the public in career, professional, or social activities, and perhaps will not have much private life. The surroundings and people's rumors can quickly hurt you. A career involves a lot of emotions - it means that you are doing something that is emotionally very close to your heart.

🌱Mercury in 10th house- your career can be related to your expression through words (you can be a speaker, a teacher). Your words can have a huge impact on an audience. Many times you can discuss more serious topics and can be interested in life around the world or you can travel to countries just to see how they live there. You can also be very distant with people and the things you talk about. You can also stubbornly stick to your point of view. You have very respectful way of how you talk with people and almost never say things that are disrespectful. Your early childhood can be mixed - lots of events and changing surroundings. Your surroundings can have a big impact on you. There are many rumors about you, your family or your father. Rumors about you can spread quickly, but they are not necessarily true.

🍒Venus in 10th house- Venus show love language, how you love, how you attract love and the way you express love to people. Your love is shown through actions, although you can have a distant relationship with people, even those you love. Maybe many times you feel that you don't know how to express love or you are afraid to show it. You can also find love in your career. You have an ability to use charm and diplomacy to further your interests. Your career also includes your relationship. This means that you can succeed with your partner. Many people can interfere in your relationship. You can also attract karmic relationships (so you can learn a lot from them). Your early life is beautiful, surrounded by love and gifts. You can have very loving father.

🧃Mars in 10th house- you have a very intense way of expressing anger in front of others. Many times you can do drama in front of an audience or a large group of people. You are usually chill when it comes to people you love and you don't express your anger very impulsively or something, but In public when something it's not going Into your way. You can express your anger and very aggressive way. You are a person who fights for your success. You will always have a plan in your head to defeat others. Your career is successful and strong (many times it can contain sports, activity, energy). Your early life can be full of ups and downs. Maybe you had to fight to get what you want, learn to stand up for yourself. It can also mean that you have an aggressive father or that he is more intense.

🍭Jupiter in 10th house- you are very lucky when it comes to your career. You can achieve a lot in your life and also meet the right people who lead you to it. Your career may involve a lot of travel and other countries. You can also be a teacher to others. You are a person who has a great will to live and you don't let bad things get you down. You always find your way to your destination. You can go through a lot of growth that gets you to where you are now. You are confident, sociable, able to deal successfully with people. The father is an optimist, funny and maybe someone who travels a lot.

🫧Saturn in 10th house- saturn is at home here, it depends on the aspects, but usually you have less karma. It can indicate a stricter attitude of the father and that the father is the one who plays the main role. It can also be a father who follows the rules and does not like to do things that are not socially acceptable. Your early life may have been surrounded by too many rules and maybe distanced from your parents. Maybe you had to take care of yourself and be independent early on. Your career can only show when you have a saturn return and it can shine the most. You are self-reliant, ambitious, and likely to achieve success. There is the possibility that you will reach high position toward the end of your life, but that it will be a lonely place.

🧁Neptune in 10th house- Your career includes a lot of art, creativity, dreams. You are a person who has big dreams and you want to achieve specific dreams. But you have to be careful that people don't steal your reputation and success. You can appear to people in many different personalities. You have a more mystical and mysterious approach. You have high aspirations and are likely to be talented in a creative way. Your imagination and intuition are helpful tools in your career. Your father may not have been as much of a presence in your life. It can represent a father who is dreamy, alienated, or has addiction problems. You early home life may have been messy.

🏄🏻‍♂️Uranus in 10th house- your career is unique, different, innovative. It can mean that you get a reputation based on your intelligence and cleverness. Fame can come unexpectedly. But you can also lose fame unannounced. This position is also known for people who are in politics. You are an independent type who looks for freedom from interference. Your career tends to be marked by sudden or unusual turns and changes. Your father may be different and more independent - someone who doesn't follow the rules. Maybe your early life contained a lot of freedom but at the same time not the usual family life.

♟️Pluto in 10th house- your career involves power. You can seem like a strong opponent to many people. When you set your mind to something, you do it. You can also attract people's fear. You are secretive and almost never reveal your privacy to the public. Your father could have been someone who had power over you so this position can also represent power struggles. Your early life may have been too intense, too many secrets. You don't want anyone to have an influence on you and who you are. Your intense personality makes its mark in career matters.

🏹Chrion in 10th house- your career involves healing others or something you can do to help other people. It can also mean that you have a lot of pain caused by your father. Childhood experience­s with authoritative figures or parents might have­ influenced a narrative whe­re you consistently perce­ive yourself as u are not good enough. Chiron was a revered mentor in mythology, your wounds can pave the way for your greatest wisdom and teaching. You aspire to transform your own painful experie­nces into sources of enlighte­nment and inspiration for others. The­se individuals often find themse­lves drawn to forge their own unique­ professional pathways.

🎸For personal readings u can sign up here: https://snipfeed.co/bekylibra 🎸

-Rebekah🧃🧚🏼‍♀️🦋

[mydearzero]

Posters on the Wall | E.M. x Reader

MASTERLIST

Summary: Your bedroom is covered in posters of your celebrity crush; Kirk Hammett. It's not until Steve points it out that you notice a... similarity to another metalhead you know.

Smut, afab reader, PWP

Warnings: Daddy kink, spanking, degradation, name calling (slut, whore, bitch), slight breeding kink, unprotected sex, fingering (f rec), penetrative sex, creampie, slight praise kink.

5.1K words

18+ MINORS DNI

Your best friend Steve had been in your room many times before. There were no new posters, no new knick-knacks, which is why it was strange he suddenly seemed so darn interested in them. "You know..." He started, putting one hand on his hip and the other on his chin. Oh god, this can't be good. 

"You really have a type. Have you ever noticed?" He motioned to a couple of posters on your wall. They were primarily of popular metal and rock bands, but there were some solo posters of members you were crushing on. Kind of. Mainly Kirk from Metallica, but who could blame you? Kirk was 21 when he joined the band in 1983 and had the perfect looks and talent for you to swoon over. He was your favourite. 

"What do you mean? A type?" You questioned, putting quotation marks around the 'type'. Steve laughed and pointed at a poster of Kirk that was hung right above your bed. "You don't see it?" He asked, eyebrows raised. You shook your head and shrugged. 

"These guys look an awful lot like someone we know, don't you think?" Steve gestured at a cluster of pictures on your wall. Amongst the photos of musicians and actors, there were a few strewn about of your friends. "I still don't get it, Steve." You sighed as you glanced at the picture of Robin, Eddie and you that Steve had pointed at last. 

"You're genuinely telling me that your lady-boner for Mr Hammett here has nothing to do with your crush on Mr Munson?" Steve scoffed. Your jaw dropped as you turned to glare at him. 

"I do not have a crush on Eddie! Are you insinuating Kirk looks like him? That's what you were getting at?" You crossed your arms defensively. Your brows furrowed as you thought it through. Kirk and Eddie didn't look alike, did they? Steve could practically see the cogs turning in your head. He knew he was digging up an unspoken topic; your feelings for Eddie. 

He didn't know what happened that night in the Upside Down. Nobody did, except Dustin, Eddie and you. The three of you refused to talk about it. Steve and Robin had discussed it and decided it must've been insanely traumatic. Hell, Eddie had almost died. Almost. Everybody had made assumptions about how you felt, but that incident settled it. You were in love with him, whether you knew it or not. You couldn't not be, not with the way you looked at him after that. 

You shrugged it off and tried to ignore Steve's insinuation. He trotted down the stairs as you collected your things to head over to Eddie's trailer. Your eyes fell on the poster of Kirk hung above your bed, followed by the picture of Eddie and you on your bedside table. Maybe they did look kind of similar? You sighed as you shook your head at the idea. You closed the door behind you and followed Steve down the stairs and out the front door. 

The drive to Forrest Hills was strangely muted. Steve informed you Nancy had had to cancel, but otherwise, it was silent. You'd picked up Robin along the way. As usual, she immediately started chattering your ears off, breaking the silence. Steve pulled up and parked next to Eddie's van. 

The man of the hour was already stood in the doorway, smoking a cigarette as he leaned against the doorframe. You didn't get to do this often; hang without the kids. You enjoyed their presence, but now and then you needed this. You think you all did. 

Eddie invited you in, and you settled on the couch with Robin and Steve. Eddie prepared some drinks and snacks on a tray and balanced it on his hands as he took it to the living room, a bag of chips clamped between his teeth. He set everything on the table and clapped his hands, waving them in the general direction of the cups. "Self-service, ladies and gentleman." 

The night was relaxed, consisting of just games and fun chatter. When Robin finally brought up the topic of celebrity look-alikes, you glared daggers at a snickering Steve. 

"I mean, it has to be Swayze, right? Eddie argued. You had been first, followed by Robin. Nobody could agree on which celeb looked like Steve, though. 

Robin shook her head in disagreement. "It's Rob Lowe, I'm telling you." Steve scoffed. "So I just look like I should play in Youngblood? Because that's what I'm hearing. I don't even like hockey. Besides, Hargrove looks way more like Rob Lowe than I do." 

You ended up agreeing that, yes, Steve just looked like he belonged between the generic heartthrobs. 

When Eddie came up, Steve remained exceptionally hushed with a mischievous look threatening to spread across his face. You and Robin named a couple of famous actors and musicians before she turned to you and hit you on the shoulder repeatedly. 

"Oh! That guy you had the wet dream about last week! The Metallica one on all those posters in your room!" Robin looked like she'd solved string theory as your face turned red. "Robin!" You whisper-shouted in a horrified tone, putting a hand over your face in embarrassment. 

"It's Kirk Hammett," Steve spoke up. 

"Yes! Thank you! You look like Kirk Hammett!" Robin exclaimed. You loved her, but God, did you want her to shut up like three sentences ago. Did she not hear what she was insinuating? That you’d had a wet dream about an Eddie look-alike? You wanted the couch to swallow you whole.

Eddie’s expression was illegible as he turned to Steve. “You know Metallica members, Harrington?” 

“Just the one. I guess you’ve never been in that bedroom because you definitely would've remembered. The guy is everywhere. It’s kinda creepy, actually. Can’t change in there, feel watched.” Steve shuddered at the thought. 

“Well, I guess I do see a similarity. I think it’s mainly the hair, though.” Eddie smirked smugly as he leaned back in the chair. 

The discussion changed to one about hair, Steve’s to be precise. Yet you kept feeling Eddie’s gaze on you. You sighed as you reached for a chip and turned to Robin when the boys were busy discussing shampoo. “You couldn’t just have named anyone else?” 

Robin shrugged. “They look alike. I don’t know what you want me to say.” She stuffed a handful of popcorn into her mouth. 

You watched Eddie as he playfully argued with Steve. The scar on his jaw was slowly fading, becoming less prominent. You guess he did kind of resemble Kirk if you squinted. You could admit Eddie was a handsome guy. Was Steve right? Did you have a crush on Eddie? 

You imagined yourself with Eddie on a lazy Sunday morning. Sleeping in, making breakfast, arms wrapping around you as a kiss was planted on your cheek. Heat rose to your face when you realized that was definitely something you could see in your near future. 

You tried imagining the same scenario with Steve, and although he too was handsome, the image wasn't accompanied by the same warm, longing feeling. Did you have feelings for Eddie? 

Steve and Eddie immediately noticed your flustered expression. Eddie was merely curious, giving you those big questioning puppy eyes. Steve, however, seemed to have caught on. The knowing smirk as he glanced at Eddie before raising his eyebrows at you told you enough. His body language screamed ‘I told you so.’ 

You really, really wished you could control thought processes. While the domestic scene was adorable, your mind flashed back to Robin’s words and the implication they’d made. You’d told her about the dream in confidence. You hadn’t gone into detail, but she’d heard enough. Clearly, it had stuck. 

And now you were stuck. The imagery of that night returned, but the hands trailing under your shirt were clad in familiar rings. The top you took off was suddenly one you recognized all too well. The chest your fingers traced was now adorned with tattoos and scars, the sight of which you were well acquainted with. 

Dream-Kirk had morphed into Dream-Eddie, and your breathing quickened when you realized the new mental images had you clenching your thighs, wetter than you had ever been. Was your superficial crush on the guitarist just a projection of your feelings for Eddie? 

Eddie had been observing you while he talked with Steve and Robin. You were being uncharacteristically quiet. He noticed the occasional flush of your cheeks and pressing of your legs. You were lost in thought, drink untouched in your hand. He turned to offer you some chips or anything else to your liking.

"Sex?" You were startled as Eddie spoke to you directly. You nearly dropped your drink as your jaw dropped in shock. "What?" 

"I asked if you wanted some snacks. Where's your head at?" Eddie raised his eyebrows teasingly. The ghost of a smirk danced on his lips as he watched you squirm and scold yourself. Where was your head at? 

"Yeah, sorry, thanks. Guess I'm just a little... distracted today." You sighed as you took the chips from him. You munched on them silently as you sat there mortified. Of course, he didn't just fucking turn to you and ask you for sex. 

"What's on your mind?" Eddie asked. You shook your head and chuckled. You glanced at Steve and Robin, who were lost in conversation. "Just, earlier..." You trailed off. Why you were even being honest, you didn't know. 

"Oh, I can totally catch you up on which hair products Harrington uses. Apparently, it's this Farah Fawcett hairspray he— Hey! Ow!" He exclaimed in pain when you hit his shoulder. 

"You know that's not what I meant, Eddie!" You muttered loudly.

"Hey, I was just giving you an out if you didn't want to breach the whole 'wet dream about my look-alike' topic." He laughed. You sighed as you looked up at him, your thighs involuntarily clenching at his expression. You weren't sure what he was thinking. His eyes darted to your thighs as he took his bottom lip between his teeth. 

Your trance was broken by Robin clearing her throat. "It's getting late, your uncle is probably coming home soon, and I don't want to bother him. Should we go?" Steve nodded in agreement. 

"Yeah, I guess that's probably for the best." Eddie put his hands on his thighs as he pushed himself out of the chair. "C'mon, I'll drive you guys home." He motioned to Robin and you. 

"No, that's okay. I'll take Robin. We live close anyways." Steve smiled. He openly winked at you as he said it. Bastard. Eddie neglected the fact that you lived closer to Robin than Steve did and agreed to be the one to take you home. Perhaps it was time you had a grown-up conversation with him about how you were feeling. 

You got in the passenger seat and watched Steve and Robin drive off. An energy you were unfamiliar with filled the van. Tension, maybe? Mutual anticipation? You didn't dare turn to Eddie or open your mouth, afraid of what would happen if you did. 

He started the van quietly. You watched as his right hand gripped the gear tightly, knuckles turning white. The left was holding the steering wheel for dear life. You'd hoped the grumbling engine would've broken the suspense hanging in the air, but it did no such thing. 

You were almost convinced you'd been imagining things. That Eddie didn't feel what you did. That his breathing wasn't actually any different than usual. That he wasn't being weirdly distant. But all your worries were resolved when his right hand slowly found its way onto your thigh. The strained gasp that left your mouth shouldn't have been as relieved, as suggestive as it was. 

"Tell me about the dream." Eddie finally broke the silence. You didn't know his grip on the wheel could tighten even more, but it did. The hand on your thigh was gentle in comparison, fingers tracing circles on the inside that had shivers going up your spine. 

"I'm not sure I want to." You confessed quietly, looking out the window. 

"Look at me when I talk to you, princess." Your eyes widened at the nickname. His voice had a tone you'd never heard from him before. "C'mon, tell me."

You hesitated, opening and closing your mouth a couple of times. You didn't know where to start. "I guess it starts at a concert. And yo-he's playing the guitar. And I guess that's kinda... hot? And then the concert ends and we... y'know?"

Eddie chuckled at your reluctance. "Shit, I'm gonna need a bit more than that, sweetheart." He squeezed your thigh as he spoke, rubbing it a bit to encourage you to keep talking. 

"It's nothing special, really. Just some making out and shit." You huffed, not wanting to go into detail. You tried to recall the dream as vividly as possible, and you were starting to doubt if it had ever even been about Kirk, or if it had been Eddie all along and you'd just convinced yourself it hadn't been. No matter, all the images were of Eddie now. They were consuming you slowly. 

"If it's just the thought of making out with me that's been getting you so hot and bothered all night, I can't wait to find out what happens when we actually do, baby." Eddie's hand crept higher and higher up your thigh, eyes never leaving the road. 

"It wasn't about you, Eddie." You scoffed. Your gaze was fixated on his profile, but he didn't let up. 

"As long as you've got yourself convinced." His smile was mocking you when he finally made eye contact. Your eyebrows furrowed. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" You questioned. Were you really that transparent all evening? 

"It means you're soaked, sweetheart. And have been since you got the thought of me stuck in your head earlier." He said it like it was the most obvious fact in the world. Like he told you the sky was blue, and the grass was green. A whimper left your throat when his finger traced the hem of your panties. How hadn't you noticed his hand coming up again? 

"That's right, baby. Feel what I do to you? What the thought of me does to your pussy?" He stroked you through the dampened fabric. There were no longer any words coming from you, just sounds. 

You mustered as much willpower as you could and spoke. "Eyes on the road, Munson." It was meant to sound confident, but Eddie knew he had you right where he wanted. Wet and desperate.

"I'm doing fine over here. It's you we should be worried about. Are you still breathing? Or have you just completely given up on all human function?" His chuckle was dark. Who was this person, and what had he done to sweet, loving Eddie? He was ridiculing you, and you were eating it up. How did he know which buttons to press so damn well? 

"I'm breathing." You mumbled. Eddie snickered and shook his head. "More like hyperventilating. Speak up." Eddie finally stopped rubbing your clothed cunt to shift the gear and park his van by your house. You hadn't even noticed you'd arrived. 

Eddie clicked and undid your seatbelt and motioned for you to get out of the car. You opened the door and put your feet on the gravel, knees weaker than you'd expected. The cold breeze blowing through the trees made goosebumps appear all over your body. 

You walked to the door and unlocked it, not checking if Eddie followed you inside. You knew he never intended on just driving you home. He was coming inside. 

You walked up the stairs and heard the front door close and lock. Eddie caught up to you and slapped your ass as you walked towards your room. “Nice house. Can’t believe I’ve never been here.” He mumbled as he walked up the stairs. 

As soon as the door to your bedroom was opened, Eddie closed in on you. His hands found their way to your hips as he pulled you close. He looked around the room for a little and smirked. There were a lot of posters here. 

He pulled you close and put a hand on your chin, tilting your face to his and kissing you softly. Even when he felt like ravaging you, he wanted your first kiss with him to be good, memorable. He felt you melt into his touch, relief washing over you when you finally got to put your lips against his. 

When he pulled away, a whimper nearly left you. You managed to hold it in, but your anguished expression was obvious. “Now that that’s out of the way…” Eddie sighed as he towered over you and walked closer, making you walk back towards the wall. 

He pushed you against the wall harshly, pressing his lips to your neck. "I understand what Harrington was getting at, now. Totally feel watched in here. Kinda hot, not gonna lie." He laughed as he pried your legs apart with his knee. He could feel the heat radiating from you as he pushed his knee against your cunt. "You into that kinda thing, baby? Maybe next time I'll take you somewhere with real people. Give 'em a little show." 

You moaned as he sucked a bruise onto your neck. "You'd love that, wouldn't you? You're a filthy little slut who likes being watched." His hand shot up your shirt and groped your clothed breast roughly, pressing his lips to yours once more. The knee between your legs was torturing you, never quite giving the right amount of pressure or friction. You tried to grind down to seek it, but Eddie's hands went to your hips and stilled them instantly. 

"Nu-uh, sweetheart. Only I get to play with your pussy. It's mine now, isn't it?" His kisses had stopped as he observed your expression, trying to read how far he could push it. You nodded wildly, silently pleading for him to continue. "Yes! All yours!" You whined and tried to pull him back into you. 

Eddie grinned at your desperation, bringing his knee up just once to watch you keen. You tried to grind your hips down again but huffed in frustration as he held you in place. He reached for your arms, putting them above your head. He undressed you with ease, only leaving you in your bra and panties. "You look fantastic, sweetheart." 

"Thank you, daddy." You sighed with your head thrown back, waiting for the touch of his lips to return. When they didn't, your head whipped back down as your eyes searched Eddie's face in confusion. 

"What did you just call me?" He questioned cynically with his eyebrows raised. Your heart sank when you realized your mistake. You'd called him 'daddy', a thing you'd known about yourself but didn't dare mention to any of your friends. 

"Eddie, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me." You stammered, reaching for your shirt to put it back on. Eddie tutted as he took it from your hands with a teasing smile. "No, baby. It's alright. You're gonna stay right here for daddy, right?"

You nodded wildly and pushed your back against the wall again, awaiting his next move. When he reached to turn you around, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. A harsh smack landed on your ass as you yelped, whipping your head around to look at the perpetrator. 

"Use your words for me, baby. No nodding or shaking your head, only 'Yes, daddy' or 'No, daddy.' Understood?" He asked, threatening to land another smack on the stinging area. You nodded before catching yourself. "Yes, daddy." 

"Good girl." 

The two-worded sentence sparked something new in you. A desire you weren't aware of. A need to please Eddie. You'd do anything to hear those words again. 

"You like it when I call you a good girl? Made your legs clench, baby. So cute." Eddie whispered in your ear as his hand slid from your ass to your folds, rubbing softly over the fabric. You whined as you searched for more friction. "Yes, daddy. Please." You didn't know what you were begging for. You just needed him to do something. 

You were still facing the wall when he pulled at your hips, bending you over. You put your hands against the wall to steady yourself. 

He snapped the waistband of your underwear harshly before pulling them down your legs. He ensured his hands were touching you at all times, leaving trails of goosebumps wherever they went. His finger dipped between your folds, collecting the juice on his finger. He put his hand to your lips and bent forward to whisper in your ear. "Taste yourself for me, baby. Taste how much I turn you on." 

You took his finger in your mouth right as he pushed another inside your cunt and swirled your tongue around it. Never in a million years would you have believed anyone who had told you this morning that coming nightfall, Eddie Munson's fingers would be knuckle deep inside your mouth and pussy. Yet here you were, and you were loving every second of it.

"That's right. So fucking wet for me. It's embarrassing. Do you have no self-control? Couldn't even think straight when our friends were around. How am I supposed to take you anywhere in the future if you're just gonna be a horny bitch?" Another smack landed on your ass. You grumbled a defence around his fingers, but it was unintelligible. 

Another slap. "No back talking, sweetheart. If you're gonna behave like a brat, you're gonna get treated like one." 

His fingers left your mouth, allowing you to speak again. "Eddie, please." You begged. 

The fingers inside you found a cruel rhythm, curling right under the spot you wanted them to. His other hand, still wet with your saliva, found your clit and started rubbing circles around it. You struggled to stand upright, the arm reaching down your front being the only thing left to support you. "That's not my name, is it, baby?"  

You shook your head, struggling to keep it up between your arms resting against the wall. "No, I'm sorry, daddy." 

Eddie chuckled at your wanton apology. "That's alright, baby. You can make it up to daddy by lying on your bed for me." 

You nearly tripped over your own feet with the speed you tried to get to your bed. The poster of Kirk above it got your attention, and suddenly you understood Steve and Eddie. You did feel watched. Eddie followed your gaze and rested his knee on the bed, leaning over you to rip the poster from the wall. 

"Just you wait and see, sweetheart. In a few years, I'll be your celebrity crush." He smiled as he crumpled the poster and threw it to the floor. 

"You already are. I'm kind of starting to believe my crush on Kirk was just me convincing myself I didn't have a crush on you." You confessed honestly. 

Eddie's hand slid up your thigh as he put a hand beside you, leaning over you. It was only now you noticed he was still fully clothed. 

"That's cute, baby. You have a crush on me?" He smirked when he reached behind your back to finally relieve you of your last piece of clothing. You put your hands over your face in embarrassment. You let him take your bra off and eagerly watched as he took off his shirt. 

You watched him unbuckle his belt, and nerves settled in your stomach. Were you actually going to have sex with Eddie? You saw his bulge through his boxers and genuinely felt your mouth fucking water. Jesus H. Christ. 

You got on your knees and shuffled to him to pull his boxers down. He stepped out of them and let out a relieved sigh when your hand cupped his balls as the other gripped him at the base. He was rock hard, dripping precum from the raging red tip. You gave it a small lick, collecting the liquid on your tongue. The salty flavour of Eddie took over your senses. 

His hips bucked and he put a hand in your hair. You bent forward to take him in your mouth, but his grip on your hair stopped you. "Next time, kitten. Just give it a little kiss for daddy, will you?" He asked sweetly. You nodded with a pout, but puckered your lips, pressing a peck to the head of his cock. 

"Attagirl." He gently pushed you on your back, climbing over you as he left a trail of kisses up your body. Your fingers discovered his torso, tracing the scars that adorned it. He used to be self-conscious about them, especially when they were more prominent, but you thought they were sexy as hell. They proved he was a hero. 

His hand swiped between your folds, appreciating how wet you were and collecting as much of it as he could. He spread it over his dick sloppily, making an obscene squelching noise as he did so. The smile on his face was lewd when he observed you squirming in anticipation. "Didn't bring a condom, baby. Gonna fuck you raw. Gonna fill you up with my cum." He groaned. 

You relished in the idea of being filled to the brim. You wanted Eddie inside, now. You tugged at the necklace that dangled in front of your face and pulled him close. That earned you a smack to the tit. A high-pitched cry left your mouth as you watched him in shock. "Desperate fucking whore. I'll fuck you when I feel like it. You're gonna wait patiently, or there will be consequences." 

You didn't know whether to be scared or even more turned on at the threat. 

He positioned his tip at your entrance and slid inside agonizingly slow. You shuddered as he bottomed out, a guttural moan bubbling from your chest. This was pleasure in its rawest form. He dragged his dick back out at the same agonizing pace before knocking the breath out of you with a harsh thrust. 

"Jesus, fuck, Eddie." You tried to hold onto anything to steady yourself. Everything became too much. His brutal pace increased as he gave your other tit a smack. "Was so easy for you when you slipped up, baby. How do you keep forgetting now?" 

"'M sorry, daddy." You were delirious when he brought his hand down to rub at your clit. The feeling of his tip hitting the right spot over and over and over, combined with the friction on your clit, was getting you close at a rate you'd never experienced. You weren't going to last if he kept this up. 

"Gonna cum already? Feel so good on daddy's dick? Fuck, baby, you're already getting tighter." Eddie rambled as he drilled into you. You were an incoherent moaning mess, a jumbled mix of 'Daddy', 'Eddie' and 'Please' leaving your mouth. He didn't bother correcting you anymore. You were too far gone. 

He pinched one of your nipples in tandem with pinching your clit, drawing pained moans out of you. It hurt so good. "Like it when it hurts, slut? Can't cum without the pain?" He asked accompanied by lethal jabs at your cervix. You hated how it nearly sent you over the edge. How he was able to bring out the worst in you. How he knew what you needed, even when you didn't know yourself. 

Your moans and whines were increasing in volume and quantity. Eddie could feel you were close and started chasing his own release. He grabbed your shoulder, using it as leverage to push as deep and fast as possible. 

You felt him twitch inside. He was no longer talking, just grunting and moaning as he watched your tits bounce with the rhythm of his thrusts. His free hand went back down to your clit and put a delicious amount of pressure on it, rubbing in time with the slapping of his balls against your skin. 

"Gonna fill you up. Gonna breed that little pussy full with my cum." He groaned. With a few last thrusts and whines from both parties, he stilled and spilt inside. The feeling sent you over the edge, one last exclamation of "Daddy!" leaving you as you came. He stayed inside a bit longer, admiring your sweaty, heaving shape as you came down from your high. 

He slowly pulled out and admired the cum spilling from your pussy with a proud look. He bent down and licked some of it up, making you hiss at the sensitivity of your spent cunt. He chuckled and looked up at you. "Hi." He smiled. 

"Don't you 'Hi' me when you just gave me the best orgasm of my life, Munson." You groaned. He just laughed and dragged his body back up and told you to open your mouth. A mix of cum and saliva dripped from his mouth to yours. 

"Swallow, baby." He smirked. You did as you were told and showed him your empty mouth. "Good girl." He bent down and kissed you softly, in stark contrast to the proper fucking he just gave you. 

Eddie plopped down beside you and looked around the room properly for the first time. He noticed more details now, like the number of pictures of him that were sprinkled in amongst those of Kirk. "If I were to cut my hair, would you still like me? Because it seems like that's your thing." 

You laughed and looked around your room. "Yeah, I'd still like you, dumbass."

"Good, good. When Corroded Coffin blows up, you're gonna have to deal with a grand bout of jealousy, babe. That's gonna be me up on girls' walls." He stated matter of factly. 

"I think I'll manage." 

"Yeah, just go running to Kirk. Maybe by that time, I'll even be able to introduce you." Eddie smirked as he lay on his side, putting a hand under his head to support it. He gazed down at you with an expression you'd never seen on him before. A mix of glee, pride and admiration. 

"In your dreams, Eddie." You scoffed as you pushed against his arm, making his head fall back to the mattress. 

"Actually, in your dreams. Isn't that how we ended up like this, anyways?" 

[yumeka-sxf]

My thoughts on Spy x Family: EYES ONLY Guidebook (English ver) - part 1

I finished reading through my copy of the English version of the SxF manga guidebook "EYES ONLY." There's tons of fantastic information about the series, but I wanted to share my thoughts/commentary on parts that were the most interesting to me. Since there's so much content to cover, I'll be dividing it into a few different posts. Also, rather than go in the order of the book's sections, I decided to group the content based on topic. This first post will cover Endo's comments about the characters individually, as well as information about Garden.

Endo's Q&As and comments about the characters

Loid:

I like that Endo provides a reason for why Loid wears a WISE logo pin as it's something more than one fan of the series has questioned! And I totally agree with Lin about his "lack of distinctive features." Compared to so many other anime characters, especially shonen main characters, Loid's design is so plain, particularly in his hair and clothes. At least in his spy outfit he has a gun to make him a little flashier, but when he's in his casual clothes, he literally just looks like "some guy," haha. But that also makes sense for his character.

I love how Endo gave specific numbers for comparing Loid and Yor's strength (Yor: 10, Loid: 6-7)

Anya:

I did notice what Endo is talking about how Anya's design changed over time. But that can be said for all the characters really, and it's definitely not uncommon for manga-ka's styles to evolve as they get a better feel for their characters and world.

He mentions the classical language thing that was also brought up in chapter 42. Definitely makes me think that will somehow tie into her backstory.

Speaking of Anya's backstory, there was this little excerpt about the researchers at the lab. So one thing we can say for sure about her past is that she was not treated well there at all (which has been hinted at in the series).

Endo also discussed the origin of Anya's pink hair (namely, there really isn't any origin, lol).

Yor:

Interesting that he spent the most time designing Yor, and also about the origin of her stilettoes. And his apology to the cosplayers for that bonus feature about Yor's hair, haha.

I had to chuckle when he said they can't measure her strength because she keeps breaking the instruments! Also the fact that she hasn't learned how to make a single successful meal since the stew…Endo is such a savage sometimes, lol. But keep in mind that this book was originally published over a year ago, and obviously we know from recent chapters that her cooking is improving. I also like that he mentions that she has left witnesses to her work, like in Extra Mission 2. I wonder if that will be a bigger plot point somewhere down the line.

Like Anya having pink hair, Endo expresses some regret about making Yor an assassin (but his laugh makes it clear he's not terribly hung up about it!)

Bond:

I know some people are bothered by the fact that Yor is Bond's least favorite. But I think Bond's (initial) dislike for her originated from the chapter where he assumes he would have died from her cooking. Also the fact that Anya put the idea in his head that she would "murder" him if he did something she didn't like, like shun her food (which is obviously heavily exaggerated). But again, this book was published over a year ago, and the most recent chapter revealed that he definitely doesn't dislike her even if she's not his favorite. It's perfectly normal for pets to have family members they prefer over others for whatever reason.

Franky:

I love that Franky does charity work. I hope we'll see that in a future chapter.

Fiona:

It's interesting that he ranks Fiona's combat ability so low, especially when you consider what she did to Wheeler in the recent arc. But to me, that wasn't so much a display of combat prowess as it was totally raw, uninhibited willpower.

Yuri:

I love his blunt answer about whether Yuri has other interests besides Yor. Also intriguing that he mentions Nightfall when discussing Yuri's combat ability…maybe those two will meet eventually?

Information about Garden

Since Garden is still such a mysterious entity in the SxF universe, I tried to gather everything about them that the book mentions.

It's interesting that Yor sees Shopkeeper as her mentor since he taught her survival skills in her youth. The book also raises the question about how Yor found Garden in the first place…maybe something Endo will expand on in the future?

So the information Franky gives us about Garden is exaggerated? Gah, that just makes them even more mysterious!

The above was a cool bit of trivia...so it seems like the secret police might know more about Garden than WISE. Perhaps Yuri will find out about Yor's real identity before Twilight?

Continue to Part 2 ->

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Could you do an imagine with Steve rogers and yn where he takes her virginity smooth talk to her into it and she comes to shield quarters to drop off some stuff he left over and she over hears him talking to tony,Buck & the avengers a both the bet they made that Steve couldn’t f*ck yn and she gets heartbroken and uses her superpowers to fight against Steve when she barges in. Like throw him into a wall. I hope you get my concept (btw yn has powers also & she’s new to the shield inc as an avenger)

Betrayed

PAIRING | Steve Rogers x Avenger!Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 2.7K

SUMMARY | You're the latest addition to the Avengers, and Steve takes on a bet behind your back that he wouldn't be able to take your virginity. When you find out about the bet a few weeks later, you lose it and your superpowers rise to their full potential.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Steve being an asshole, swearing, smut [ loss of virginity, fingering, protected sex, massage turned to sex, light spanking ]

A/N | Hi nonnie, thank you so much for my very first request, I hope this is what you were looking for when you thought of the prompt! After all the love and many people requesting a part 2, I finally caved and you can find that right here! 🖤

Likes and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💜

Main Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist

It has been a dream of yours ever since being recruited by SHIELD as an agent, to climb the ranks to becoming part of the Avengers. That dream finally became a reality and you were ecstatic when you found out you were accepted into the Avengers program. Right from the start all of the Avengers welcomed you with open arms, and you felt at home immediately, maybe a bit too much if you look back at it. During one of Tony's afterparties, you accidentally let it slip that you're still a virgin and that you wish you weren't anymore. There are some strange looks shared between some of the guys at your confession, but you decided to let it go at that time. Right now, however, you wish you hadn't.

After you went to bed that night, some of the guys got into a heated discussion about the fact that you're a virgin, and they all wanted to help you out. You know you're quite attractive - nothing over the top, but you take good care of yourself and it shows - so the fact that they all wanted to sleep with you wasn't much of a surprise. The fact that it was Steve who offered to do it first, did surprise every single one of the guys. ''No way you're taking her virginity, Cap. You have the sex appeal of a piece of grass,'' Clint remarked, which earned him a glare that wasn't all that nice. ''I think we should make a bet,'' Steve said, a mischievous look in his eyes.

''I want to make a bet if I can do it or not. If I win, I won't have to go on missions for a month. If you guys win, I will take one mission of your hands of your choice, each,'' Steve offered and they immediately agreed to these terms. And that is how Steve tried to talk you into his bed, which took more effort than he had anticipated, you weren't as easy as you made yourself sound that night. It took him a little over 5 months, but eventually, his hard work and patience paid off, for him at least.

~ 5 months later ~

You just went on a gruesome mission with all of the Avengers, and it was already late so instead of flying home now, all of you went to a hotel and spend the night. You had been incredibly frustrated for a while, and this mission was too much at this point. The mission ended up being successful, but Steve was being an asshole towards you the entire time, all to get under your skin for his gain, with the bet still in his mind. All the other Avengers quickly teamed up with the rooms, so your only option was to share a room with Steve, and you weren't happy with that. In the slightest.

''Guys, can any one of you please switch with me? I can't look at his face right now and I want to smack that smug grin of his fucking face,'' you say through gritted teeth, but they aren't helping one bit. ''Sorry doll, we always have the same sleeping arrangements and Steve usually sleeps alone, so you don't have a choice,'' Bucky said, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. ''You guys are unbelievable,'' you said and you opened the door to your shared bedroom, rushing in to get away from all of them.

''Don't mind them,'' Steve said when he followed you and you let yourself fall on your back on the bed. ''Maybe it's a good thing you and I are sharing a bedroom tonight, I had a plan to get both of our frustrations out of our systems,'' Steve said with an innocent look in his eyes. ''You do...?'' you ask him, unsure where he's going with this. ''Yeah, I find that a massage works well, get someone to rub all my frustrations away. I brought some massage oil that I could use on you if you want,'' he offered, and you were thinking about it. ''I'm gonna take a shower first though, I don't want to be disgusting when you massage me,'' you said.

When you were in the shower, Steve texted the guys' group chat that his plan would work, you agreed to a massage and he would most definitely be able to turn it around so he could fuck your brains out later that night. When you came back from your shower, you put your hair in a claw clip so it would be out of the way, and you noticed Steve already prepared his bed to be used as the massage 'table'. ''Please, lay down without the towel so I can reach your entire back with ease,'' he said with a small grin on his face, but you did it. You needed a way to get this frustration out of your body, and it was worth a shot. ''Lay down for me, baby,'' he said and you didn't even think twice about the nickname he gave you.

You did as he said and made yourself comfortable. ''No towel baby, that was it's easier for me to reach everywhere,'' Steve said and because you're lying on your stomach, you can't see the smug look he has on his face. He took the towel away and softly gasped at the sight of you, you were even more beautiful than he thought you'd be and he was very happy he got to do this. He put a little bit of the massage oil on your back and his hands before he started, rubbing it all over your shoulders and back first, just grazing your cheeks when he's rubbing it over your lower back, teasing you ever so slightly. After it's nice and spread out he starts putting some pressure and you let out a soft moan at the feeling.

''Mmh Steve, feels good,'' you softly moan and he smiles at the way you praise him, happy he can make you feel that good. ''Are you feeling better yet, baby?'' he asked and you nodded, letting out a content sigh. The fact that you're completely naked is long forgotten, you were very comfortable around Steve now with his hands running over your body like that. ''Got some more pressure points in my lower back you could massage,'' you tell him, it's always been a point that's bothering you and now that he was massaging you, it was the perfect timing to get help. ''Like this?'' he said as he put a bit more pressure on your lower back with his palms, moving from your spine outwards and down to your hips. This makes you groan, and in all honesty, a little turned on too.

When he's taken good care of your shoulders and back, he moves on to your calves and thighs. ''Time for these beautiful legs,'' he says as he silently takes off his shirt and pants, they were getting more and more uncomfortable now that he was getting pretty hard from just massaging you. He was standing in his boxer briefs and you didn't notice, completely taken over by pure bliss. He dripped a little oil on both your legs, stopping right beneath your cheeks and he put it to the side, ready for later. He started massaging at your ankles and slowly work his way up to your thighs, giving special attention to the tops, near your ass. His fingers slowly move up and when he's kneading and rubbing your ass, you let out a gasp which turns into a moan.

''S-Steve...'' you say but he quickly cuts you off, ''Shh, it's okay baby, this is normal,'' he says and he starts kneading more roughly, even going as far as landing a slap on both your cheeks at the same time, watching them ripple under his hands. ''Fuck, doing so good for me, baby,'' Steve praised you and you couldn't help but enjoy it, even though you knew in the back of your head it was still wrong. It was at that moment Steve couldn't take it any longer, and his hand wandered down between your thighs, cupping your dripping pussy. ''Hm, you're already dripping wet baby, 'm gonna take good care of you,'' he says as he slowly slides his fingers through your folds, giving special attention to your clit with his middle finger. You moan loudly at the feeling, your ass automatically lifting in the air at the feeling.

''Such a good girl for me right now, letting me take good care of you,'' he praised you and you started clenching around nothing. ''Steve, please,'' you whimpered, you wanted to feel his fingers inside you by now. ''What is it, baby? What do you need from me? Just say it and I'll do it,'' he says, whispering the words in your ear as he pushes your thighs further apart for better access. ''Need you, need your fingers inside me,'' you said shyly and he happily complied, immediately shoving 2 fingers deep inside your dripping entrance without warning. This makes you gasp loudly and grind your hips against his hand. ''How does it feel baby?'' Steve asks with a huge grin on his face while picking up his pace and curling his fingers so he can continue to stimulate your sweet spot.

''G-good, gonna cum,'' you moan as you keep grinding against his fingers. He uses his other hand to play some more with your clit and before you know it, you feel your orgasm wash over you while you moan out his name loudly. ''Yes, let everyone know who's making you feel this good baby,'' he said, knowing full well all the guys could hear what you were doing through the tins walls of the hotel. ''Fuck, feels so good,'' you say as you come down from your high. Steve pulls his fingers softly out of you before turning you over on your back, so he could massage the front of your body. He started with your legs, giving them the same treatment as when he massaged the back of your legs, but avoiding your sensitive pussy this time.

Next up is your stomach, which he drips some oil onto before massaging it deeply, so you let out soft whimpers, especially when his hands' ghost over the underside of your breasts, which were beautifully exposed for his viewing pleasure, your nipples still hard after your first orgasm. ''Those breasts look delicious baby,'' Steve cooed and it made you giggle a little bit before he softly grabbed them and massaged them, giving extra attention to your sensitive nipples. He noticed every single whine, whimper, and moan coming out of you when he played with them, either by rubbing, tugging, or softly flicking them, and he was reveling in the sounds that left your lips.

He finished with your upper chest and neck before leaning down and softly kissing you, which you have been longing for this entire time. He wasn't your first kiss, but he was by far the best you ever had, and you didn't hesitate when he slipped his soft, warm tongue in your mouth to explore every single inch of it. He sat down on the bed and removed his underwear, exposing his painfully hard cock, which was laying on your thigh as he took his place between your legs. ''Steve, condom please,'' you said. You were on birth control and this was your first time, but you weren't sure where he had been and didn't want to risk either getting pregnant or an STD, but Steve didn't mind, he always used one anyways.

He grabbed one from the nightstand - thank god he came prepared - and ripped open the foil before rolling it onto his hard length. ''Are you ready baby?'' he asked and you said yes, giving him a soft smile too. ''Need you inside me,'' you said and without a second to think about it, Steve was pushing himself into your entrance, the burning sensation quickly subsiding and making way for pleasure. He is very big and a lot to get used to, but in no time he was buried inside you completely, letting you get used to the sensation as he bent over, stealing soft kisses from your lips. ''Steve, please move,'' you beg softly and he does, going slow at first but slowly picking up the pace, making you moan louder every single time.

Sure, he may be doing this for a bet, but he was still mindful of the fact that this is your very first time, and he did want to give you the pleasure you deserve, and not go too rough at first. ''Steve, harder'' you beg, and with that, he quickly picks up the pace as you wrap your legs around his waist, so he can hit the deepest spots inside you. ''F-fuck, Steve, gonna cum-'' you practically yelled when your orgasm washed over you again, making your vision go temporarily black with the intensity of it, Steve followed quickly after with the chant of your name, and he buries his face in your neck as he spills his cum inside of the condom. ''Fuck, feels so good around me baby, such a good girl for me,'' he says before pulling out. The rest of the night is spent lazily making out and cuddling, before falling asleep in each other's arms.

~ 3 weeks after the mission ~

You and Steve talked about what happened that night and both agreed nothing more would come of it, it was just a one-time thing to get both your frustrations out and you would remain friends. He talked to the guys about it and they all heard, clapping him on his back and saying he won the bet fair and square, so they would pick up his missions for the next month. ''How was it?'' Tony asked and he told them all about the massage and how it felt to be buried balls deep inside you. They were still talking about the bet when you happened to walk into the room since you accidentally left some files in the living room you needed to prepare.

''Good job Steve, you won the bet fair and square, I didn't think you would fuck her but you earned it'' Bucky said as he got up, and immediately you realize they're talking about you. ''What bet are you guys talking about?'' you ask, and all the guys' heads snap in your direction. ''Y/N, hey...'' Steve said, his face becoming bright red. ''Did you guys seriously bet on if he was able to fuck me? You guys are fucking unbelievable,'' you snarled at each of them, but you're the most mad at Steve. ''You're such a dick, Steve, you know that?'' you yelled at him and you felt your powers come out, usually you tried to keep them hidden since they could cause quite a lot of destruction. ''Using me for a fucking bet?!'' is the last thing you said before you lifted Steve off his chair with your mind, using your telekinesis.

You slam him into the wall on the other side of the living room with your full force, making him go through it like the wall was made of a thin sheet of paper. ''Don't ever fuck with me like that again, or he won't be the only one on the receiving end of my powers,'' you say to the rest of the guys, and they quickly scramble away. To make Steve hurt even more, you walked over to him and made him squirm by giving him a head-splitting headache with your mind, as he grabbed his head to stop it. ''Y/N PLEASE STOP!'' he begged you, but you didn't. You want him to hurt just as much as you were. ''Oh no Rogers, you don't get to beg now, you earned everything I'm going to do with you,” Your power got out of hand and when Wanda walked into the living room, she managed to snap you out of it at the right time, if she didn't you would've killed him.

And just like that, your dream of becoming an Avenger is completely shattered.

[bunnyshideawayy]

a rumored bastard and a proven, disinherited, legally illegitimate recognized bastard are not the same.

Rhaenyra’s sons are rumored bastards, i know the show has a lot of team green stans feeling bold but just as in the books, they are never legally considered bastards in the show either. they are speculated to be via their physical features and Laenor’s apparent sexuality, but since Laenor and the KING (btw Westeros is a absolute monarchy, meaning the king IS law) both claim all three boys as legitimate heirs, unless someone demands a medieval dna test, those kids are legally Laenor’s true sons.

this is apparently a very hard concept to understand for some, hell even Alicent in the show says something like “we can all tell” which fair point, but that is not proof enough. looks, accusations, and rumor are not the same as actual proof of adultery or bastardy.

someone i was having a “discussion” with used Joffrey as an example to point out a flaw in my logic, but ultimately proved my point. Joffrey was a rumored bastard. Ned himself had no more proof than Alicent does, just hair color and a hunch, so Joffrey was never legally disinherited from the line of succession. I hate to defend either of these men but King Robert never publicly disowned him and called him bastard, which is why Joffrey ascended to the Iron Throne. now the rumors did hurt, and caused huge political issues leading to the War of 5 Kings, which is exactly why Alicent and Team Green is so insistent that Rhaenyra’s children are illegitimate, they know they cannot legally or physically prove her children are bastards, especially when Laenor and the King are claiming them are true born, but they can spread the rumor and call into question Rhaenyra’s honesty and morality. think episode 8 when team green takes their chance with Vaemond to attempt a coup of sorts for the Driftmark Throne, why would the succession of Driftmark need to be settled if Rhaenyra’s sons are true born? why would Alicent / Otto need to make this decision in place of the sick king and mia lord of tides who both had already been stating Luke would inherit for years. it’s all apart of the scheme to tarnish Rhaenyra’s reputation as Vaemond has no other proof either, and promptly loses his head (both metaphorically and literally) by calling the recognized heir to the throne a whore and her children bastards with no proof in front of the whole court.

it is a political scheme on both sides, Alicent cannot prove anything, and Rhaenyra cannot disprove the rumors no matter how many times they are claimed as true born sons. Rhaenyra has to live in the comfort the law gives her, as legally her sons are seen as legitimate, and thus legally they are protected. and from an unbiased pov with both in universe and historical references, those kids might be bastards in actually but not legally.

Rhaenyra goes through hell to keep her children legally protected, not only for their sake but for hers because should the truth come out both her and Laenor would be seriously punished, i wouldn’t go as far as executed but that would depend on if Viserys was old and bed ridden or dead. which is why im making this incredibly long post repeating myself in every point. you can argue all day about Rhaenyra’s children and their parentage but i am making this to make it clear that her children are not *legally* bastards by Westeros law. in order for Jace, Luke, and Joffrey to be illegitimate bastards Laenor, Rhaenyra, Harwin, and/or Viserys would have to publicly acknowledge them as such and disinherit them. no, Laenor and Viserys dying do not magically make Rhaenyra’s children legal bastards either. they would, again, need to be claimed and proven as such and disinherited.

and at the end of it all, true or not true, the rumors made a lasting impact on the story. so much so this fandom is still debating this topic, and frankly i am dreading the season 2 release when all the bad takes and bad faith arguments start up again.

anyway other famous rumored bastards are in Targ history are:

Maegor

Daeron II

[teacasket]

omg

genre: fluff au: gamer au, streamer au warnings: none word count: 0.6k   pairing: gn!reader x lee felix song: omg by new jeans

THEY KEEP ON ASKING ME, “WHO IS HE?”

Chat won’t stop asking, despite how many times you try to steer the topic at hand to something else. Their opinions on your current Animal Crossing build? Ignored. If you should crochet a cardigan or bucket hat for your cat? Little to no responses. Lavender latte or milk tea for Drink of the Day? Lavender latte wins, but Chat immediately goes back to your hidden boyfriend.

This is what you get for forgetting to mute your mic. You had a whole phone call about dinner before realizing your mistake, and now everyone knows that wholesome, cozy Twitch streamer lightberry swears like a sailor when discussing pork katsu and calls a special someone “baby.” It’s been clipped already, you just know. At least you didn’t put him on speaker.

“‘100 subs if you tell us his name?’” you read. You'll indulge them because indulging Chat makes for good content. “I’ll tell you literally anything else.”

If you told them his name, you would end up trending on Twitter.

“‘Is he also a gamer?’ Yeah. Mostly League, Genshin, Apex. He’s been trying to get into Valorant. Now, 100 subs, please.”

Felix, otherwise known as LixInABox, is a gamer and streaming personality who has nearly a million subs on Twitch. He has a partner, an elusive figure exclusively referred to as “My Partner.” There are rumors that My Partner (MP) doesn’t actually exist and that they’re a cover for his singleness.

“‘20 subs if you tell us his rank?’ Sure. He's pretty high in everything. I can’t ever duo with him, except in Genshin.”

When he started streaming, he was primarily known for his League of Legends skills. Low Masters on a good day, Diamond 3 on the bad ones.

“‘Show us a picture.’ You know what, I’ll do that for free.”

Chat is not happy when you pull up a photo of Marshal from Animal Crossing. To be fair, he does resemble Felix a little.

While they continue to pester you about his identity, you continue terraforming your butterfly-shaped lake. When Marshal walks by with a sandwich, you make sure to point him out.

“There’s my boyfriend,” you say as you glance at the chat, which is scrolling by so quickly, your eyes can barely keep up.

IT’S LIX

MP MP MP MP

LIXBERRY

You’ve got a ship name already? How did they figure it out? Did Felix reach a million subs? He joked that he would reveal who MP was once he hit a million, and you sort of gave him the green light, but surely he would tell you beforehand? You sit motionless at your chair and try to come up with a solution that doesn’t involve straight up lying.

LIXBERRY LIXBERRY

MP IS REAL

HE’S LIVE

It doesn’t matter what you do. By doing nothing, you’ve confirmed it, so you go back to how it all started—you call Felix, live on stream. You leave your mic unmuted intentionally this time.

“Hey, what did you do?” are your first words. You have his stream up as well, so you see the blush on his face. “You’re live on mine, by the way.”

“I didn’t do anything! They figured it out! I mentioned that I was gonna have pork katsu for dinner, and like five minutes later, they connected it back to you. What did you do?”

“I forgot to mute during our call,” you admit. “And I also gave them hints in exchange for subs, but I didn’t think they were anything obvious.”

He looks at his chat and laughs. “You basically told them what I’m famous for. And a picture of Marshal? No wonder.”

“My bad. See you at dinner?”

He smiles, and you can’t help but do the same. “Yeah. Love you.”

“Love you, too, baby.”

Chat explodes. You and Felix will never live this down, but it feels better than you thought. And you really don’t want to admit it, but lixberry is really, really cute.

HE’S THE ONE THAT’S LIVING IN MY SYSTEM, BABY.

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 14

part 1 | part 13 | ao3

fuckin' finally some FLUFF

Dinner is awkward.

It’s awkward, Steve thinks as he spears a Brussels sprout with more force than strictly necessary, because Dustin promised that it was just going to be the three of them tonight, and now he’s sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with his leather-clad metalhead neighbor.

It went like this: Steve showed up at the Henderson’s front door with a pie plate and a two-liter of Grapico under his arm, looking like a dork on picture day in his best jeans and a nice polo with his hair actually combed for once, and he lifted his hand to knock only to be greeted by Eddie throwing the door open and hollering, “Be right back, Henderson! Gotta grab— oh, shit.” 

And then, more eloquently, “Uh…” 

Uh. Like Steve was the one unexpectedly crashing the party.

Steve stabs another sprout. 

They’ve been bumbling through stilted small talk about work and school and weekend plans for what feels like a painfully long time, and Eddie has his elbows on the table — didn’t even bother to take his jacket off because he was apparently raised in a barn — and it’s basically dinner with Barb’s parents all over again. 

This is finger-lickin’ good.  

God. Get him out of here.

“Okay,” Dustin cuts through the stalled-out silence in the room. He jabs an accusatory fork into the air, pointing between the two of them and narrowing his eyes. “You two are being weird.” 

Eddie startles dumbly, and Steve just says, “Hmm?”

“You.” He aims the fork at Steve. “Are being.” It moves to Eddie; back to Steve. “Weird. What’s going on? I thought you two were getting along now.” 

Steve dabs his mouth with his napkin. Wow. Okay. So they’re doing this now.

Eddie either doesn’t get the memo or just decides to rip it up, because instead of being honest he throws on a theatrical smile and flings an arm around Steve’s shoulders, proclaiming, “Of course we are! C’monnn. Me and this guy?” He reaches up to give Steve a gentle noogie. Steve wonders if you can get a more lenient sentence if the guy you murdered really, really deserved it. “Thick as thieves.” 

Claudia smiles fondly.

Dustin’s not buying it. “You’re so full of shit, you know that?”

“Dusty!” Claudia gasps. She gives him a stern look as she tops off her wine glass, then leans over to do the same for Steve and Eddie’s glasses, too. “Stevie, honey, don’t listen to him,” she soothes. “I think it’s sweet. It’s good to see you with some boyfriends your own age.”

Dustin chokes at her word choice, and Steve blushes to his ears. 

Eddie’s arm tightens around his shoulders. “Yeah, Stevie,” he smirks, leaning in a little closer. “We’re great boyfriends, aren’t we?” 

“Oh, yeah,” Dustin joins in, “best boyfriends I’ve ever seen.” 

Surely murder’s just murder, right? Like, from a sentencing perspective? Does it matter how many people you off, or do you just get thirty-to-life regardless?

“Steve, tell mom more about your boyfriend.”

Steve chugs his glass of wine.

—

The conversation turns to less embarrassing topics after that, the words flowing more easily now that everyone’s warmed up with wine and making fun of Steve. Claudia asks what everyone’s doing for Halloween, and Dustin tells her that Eddie and Steve are taking the boys trick-or-treating in the neighborhood with the good candy bars (which was news to Steve, goddammit), and that leads to a discussion of costume plans. 

Dustin and Mike are going as a pair again, Marty and Doc from Back to the Future. Lucas is doing his own thing, but he's "totally delusional if he thinks a costume is gonna win Max back." Steve doesn’t really have a costume this year, so he’ll probably just pull some sweats out of the closet, throw a whistle around his neck and go as a basketball coach, and Eddie, surprisingly, has the lowest effort costume of them all. 

“Oh, I’m going as a vampire,” he says when Claudia asks. He reaches into his pocket, pulls out some cheap plastic teeth and pops them into his mouth. “Ta-daaa.”

Steve wrinkles his nose. “You just carry those around?” 

“Isn’t it awesome?” Dustin asks.

“Not really, no. It’s not.” 

“But S’theeeve,” Eddie lisps around the fangs. The wine’s made him weirder, playful and too-friendly and berry pink in the cheeks. He holds his sleeve in front of his face like a vampire hiding behind a cape and drawls, “I vant to s’thuck your bloood.”

Steve vants to jump out the window. “I’m gonna go serve the pie.” 

—

part 15

tags below the cut, comment if you want me to tag you tomorrow 🩷

@acedorerryn @ahsokatanoss @annabanannabeth @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awolfstudio @bananahoneycomb @bronwenmarie @burymestanding @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @courtjestermunson @cr0w-culture @cuips-not-cute @dontwasteyourchances @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @eriquin @estrellami-1 @evillittleguy @fandomfix8 @foolofentirelytoomanyfandoms @goodolefashionedloverboi @gregre369 @griefabyss69 @grtwdsmwhr @heartsong18 @hellion-child @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @jaytriesstuff @littlebluejane @lololol-1234 @messrs-weasley @nburkhardt @noodle-shenaniganery @ppunkpuppyy @runninriot @sadcanadianwinter @silver-snaffles @singmeyoursimpsong @slowandsteddie @slutforcoffein @solalasoforth @steddieas-shegoes @stevesbipanic @steves-strapcollection @teatimeeverybody @thealwithnoname @thestarslittleking @thesuninyaface @trensu @violetsteve

[cy-cyborg]

I'm getting a little tierd of the idea because amputees get more representation in media, it means rep for our disability is better and we "have enough"

People are right, we do have way more rep than really any other disability, im not going to deny that, and ive joked before about how often people write amputees without even realising it. So you would think, by sheer numbers, we should have at least some good representation, but by-and-large that is not the case. Legitimatly, the closest example I can think of to point to of good amputee rep is Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood and even that uses multiple tropes I hate (the miracle cure/quest for the miracle cure, the almost perfect prosthetic replacement/forgetting the chatacter is an amputee until it breaks or needs repairs, refusal to call prosthetics, "prosthetics" (automail), the amputee who can't do anything without a prosthetic) and they call Ed a slur for another disability (m*dget) CONSTANTLY. I love fmab deeply, it legitimatly helped me feel seen and represented as a childhood amputee in a way no other show has even come close to, and when it gets it right, it gets it really right, but it's also very far from great and should not be the best example I can think of. Especially nearly 15 years after it released...

A big part of the reason why I don't read many books anymore is because of the sheer amount of books with downright offensively bad amputee rep, some of which were touted as good by people with other disabilities and were recommended to me as good examples. others times, I wasn't even looking for books with amputee/disability rep, it just popped up. It has ruined one of my childhood hobbies for me. Ive tried to get back into reading again as an adult but it hasn't gotten better in that time i was away. I was kicked out of 3 different scifi writing groups on facebook and reddit for asking people to remember "cybernetic enhancement" users are amputees - a real group of people, and maybe debating weather or not we're less human isnt great, and for pointing out seeing those discussions every day was making me feel pretty unwelcome in that space (yes i know, "real" cyberpunk isnt trying to say that, i had to turn notifications off on my post about the topic, it doesnt change the fact that newer creators in the genre dont seem to get that bit, that ive seen cyberpunk writers in these spaces say that debating weather people who loose more parts of their body were less human was, in fact, their intent but they hadnt even considered the fact this made their chatacters amputees, it doesnt change the fact that these tropes, intentionally or not, help make those spaces hostile for disabled fans/creators, especially amputees).

But yeah, I should be thankful I get more rep than other disabilities, no matter the quality, right?

It doesn't just stop at being me being made uncomfortable, though. The sheer, overwhelming amount of amputee chatacters with "perfect prosthetics" has had a noticeable impact on how we are perceived irl. In my lifetime, the general idea people have about multi-limbed amputees in particular has gone from "literally the worst thing that can happen to a person and the worst disability to have" to "is it even a disability? The prosthetic fixes it". These are both wildly untrue and harmful ideas about my disability that were both perpetuated by media, but now that the second one is taking root, it's causing real problems. I have not been shy in talking about how I have to fight to maintain my NDIS funding every time I get something done with my prosthetics, and had to get my prosthetist to sign off, twice, that my fancy prosthetic knee that costs the same as a higher-end new car ($125,000 AUD) is not, in fact a cure and I still need help with other things. It took me nearly 2 years to get a new wheelchair because they didn't understand why I needed it if I had the prosthetics - which to be honest, is not comfortable for me to wear, let alone use all day every day. Guys this isn't just assholes on the street or on twitter saying dumb shit, it's the people in the government body who decide how much funding I get to help with my disability who beleive it. People who have very real control over my life. It's not entirely the media's fault, but when the sheer, overwhelming majority of representation for people like me confirms that belief, it's hard to ignore the possibility that these portrayals are contributing to it, you know?

Which makes it so frustrating when I come on here and see other disability writing advice blogs saying to not write amputees because they have so much representation already. We do, I can acknowledge that, but the vast, vast majority of it is shit, and no one, not even other disabled people, are listening to us about it. And what makes it even worse, is the people they're advising to not writing amputees are the creators who care enough to be doing the research. They're the ones willing to listen, to ask questions. They could be the start of the positive change. But instead they're advised to not even bother with us.

And don't get me wrong, other disabilities ARE under-represented. There are so many disabilities, including some I have myself, that I've never seen represented as anything other than the butt of a joke. There does need to be more reprentation of disabilities other than amputation and limb differences. 100%! but can you please talk about that without saying "amputees have enough"

This isn't even touching on how amputees/people with limb differences who dont/cant use prosthetics, or even folks who use prosthetics sometimes but not others, are almost never represented unless it's for pitty-porn, or how the non-fictional media's (news outlets, etc) portrayal of amputees in particular is used to justify hurting very real, very vunderable people but this rant is long enough and honestly, ive got enough thoughts to make whole other posts on those subjects. That second one in particular deserves its own (more thought-out) spotlight and shouldn't be a footnote in a frustrated rant post lol.

[ash-says]

Tips on how to dodge personal questions in a Professional Setting:

I know. I know. I said I will be on a break and I still stand by that but it was difficult to throw away the sudden surge of motivation so here I am.

I received a request to make a post on this long back so here is your girl serving it. Honestly I am not much of an expert at it either but I have some ways that work sometimes so here goes nothing.

1) Do not give in to the pressure.

Literally that's the starting point. Whenever someone asks us a personal question we feel obligated at some level to answer because of xyz reasons. That's why we first need to escape the pressure of answering.

2) Straightforwardly and Politely state I am not comfortable answering that.

The bulletproof method. No explanation needed.

3) If you are in a situation where the person is being really nosy and can't take a no for an answer. Try saying to them,"I don't understand how it's relevant to our topic of discussion."

4) If you are not in a position to decline at all which happens when the person asking the question is of higher authority and has influence in this situation give vague answers that lead nowhere.

Example: So are you dating anyone?

It's tough to say in particular you know the dating scene nowadays it's difficult to put a name on anything.

Or what do you do on your weekends?

Nothing just the usuals. I am an office worker after all.

This creates a sense of familiarity with the crowd but at the same time does not reveal anything in precision.

5) Turn the topic on them. One of the smartest things you can do is make them the central focus. People love to talk about themselves so it works most of the time until you come across someone truly smart.

Example: hey how's the new office? Are you liking it here?

Ans: Well I am still getting used to the environment here. What about you? How long have you been working here?

6) Another thing you can do is dance around the topic but not on the topic. You remember how you used to write a 1 mark question for 5 marks exactly like that. Tell the prequel and sequel of the question but never answer the exact question.

7) This one is kinda rude I won't suggest doing it around randomly but if you have been in the corporate space for sometime you would know that there are some people who like to ask things only to belittle you or spread gossip or to be mean. The jealous ones that don't have a life of their own.

In case they ask something or say something rude or cross a boundary just start singing a song or change the topic completely. Don't acknowledge anything they say and continue with your random talks or humming. Trust me it's the easiest way to get rid of them.

Still some are persistent and will try to get an answer. Simply say it's not worth discussing. It's boring.

8) Apart from that there are subtle things you can do which can create a persona that conveys you are not open towards personal questions. You can do it by simply detaching yourself whenever someone starts talking about their personal lives. Don't be a participant or a listener. It gives a que you are not looking to bond personally and many other similar things.

9) If you are truly in a toxic work culture where your colleagues seem to constantly bug and bully you to share personal stuff (happened with me in my previous workplace) Firmly state,"I come here to work not to make personal relations."

10) Ignore.

I hope it helps even a little there's not much we can do without offending the other person but we can be gentle and polite in our tone and gesture that's the only way.

That's all for today's show on ash-says. Stay tuned for more illegal tricks and explosive opinions.

[kakiastro]

Marriage in Astrology

Because we all have manifested a marriage like there’s😅

Hey y’all! I wanted to talk about this topic because this is a popular question in astrology. So I’m going to show you where in your chart that YOU can look for to help you get the answers.

See, a lot of people just look at one section when it’s a lot more complexed than that. There’s a lot of variables to look at. It’s like reading a story, the more chapters you read, the more you start understanding the book. It’s best too look at one placement at a time then look over your own life and start connecting the dots.

If you’re still confused after this post, schedule a reading, I’m doing them 25$ for my spring sale!

Venus + Libra + 7h

Venus rules over the partner + your idea of marriage. When I say the idea of marriage, I mean YOUR personal beliefs regarding it. Everyone has different points of view regarding marriage depending on cultural or religious beliefs. Keep in mind, marriage for the longest was seen as a business contract and still is in many cultures. What are the odds that Venus also rules over contracts 😅it’s all based on the type of partner you will attract or subconsciously attracted to.

Look at your Venus to see what kind of partner you’re attracted too.

Venus rules over the sign of Libra and rules the 7h. The 7h (area in life) can show you how you view marriage overall, not just your own but the people in your life. The ruler of your 7h can indicate how you’ll meet.

For example: Taurus 7h. You believe marriages should be grounded and stable, you might believe in a generational home that can be passed down, physical connection, listening, familial roots is strong. These people are not spontaneous, planning and taking their time. You may know lots of people with Taurus placements that talk a lot about marriage or they’re ideal of it. Ruler in the 11h. May meet their spouse randomly, when they’re pursuing their dreams or through mutual friends group

The 7h is ruled by Libra so look at the house Libra rules in your chart to see more details of the partner!

Pluto + Scorpio + 8h

It’s so wild that Pluto and Scorpio is not talked about enough when it literally rules what goes on inside the marriage. Venus + Libra rules over the idea and the partner we want but Pluto is the type of marriage you’re going to have. No one knows what goes on inside of anyone’s marriage regardless on what they publicly share to the public.

Pluto rules over intimacy and exchange. It also rules over shared resources. Shared resources isn’t always financials, it’s anything you share with someone. Marriage is a very private affair which Pluto rules over. Now Pluto is a generational planet so many people have you Pluto placement, however, the house it’s in can show you Your personal chapter and how it Pluto plays out for you. This is why everyone in your generation sort of have a similar theme with marriage but everyone has a different story. Everyone is sitting on the same bus but everyone is getting off at different stop. You feel me?

The 8h is ruled by Scorpio as well so this house where you really look and see the energy of the marriage of someone. You can get a glimpse of what kind of marriage you’re going to have. This house also rules over divorce as well while Venus rules over breaking of contracts. That’s what marriage is at the end of the day. You are committing and sign a legal document saying you will spend your life with this person.

The house Scorpio rules, is where you are really private so you may not feel comfortable with discussing your marriage at all.

For example:: if you have a Scorpio 4h, you’re family may not know nothing about your marriage but one or two things😅

Asteroid Juno

So asteroid Juno is connected to marriage and the marriage partner. I’ve been studying Juno for a while now and the more I research, I believe it shows how devoted we are to the marriage and to our partner. Juno rules over our devotion.

For example: Juno Aries. This person would fight for their partner and marriage if they genuinely believe in it. It can also manifest as easily giving up if the flame is completely burnt out . One thing for sure these people will bring the passion and fire to the marriage.

Keep in mind, these are just placements. This isn’t including the aspects to these placements which influence your chart as well.